


Hyperion's Son

by Cornerofmadness



Series: Hyperion's Son [1]
Category: Angel The Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 00:32:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 160,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15919344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: More than ten years after Angel gave up his son, Angel Investigations has a strange new case. One of the young new Slayers training with Buffy at the ‘Slayer school’ in LA has turned up dead just like a half dozen or so street kids leading Angel, Buffy and their friends into a very dark world of hopelessness to find the evil is after one of their own.





	1. Angelboy

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://imgur.com/xVKmBsA)  
>   
>  Front Cover Art by Electric_Heart
> 
>  
> 
>  **Disclaimer** \- Sing the chorus. I don’t own them (well, Tin Man Darts, Misty and Night Rain are mine along with some of the new Slayers), Joss does. No harm intended, no money made, thank you for letting us borrow them for a while.  
>  **Timeline** – This is set post series for both Buffy and Angel and was originally started before the last season of Angel so it goes alternative reality from the end of S4, disregarding _Not Fade Away_ and any and all of the comic books.  
>  **Warnings** -alternative reality, on page drug use, mentions of child abuse (but not seen on page), sexually suggestive including prostitution, no more violence than would have been seen in the shows.  
>  **Author’s Note#1** \- Thanks to SJ, Matt & Leni for all their editing and hard work and invaluable input. Note also that this is written in multiple person point of view.  
>  **Author’s Note #2** – I created a playlist on YouTube of all the songs featured in the story. To be fair, they were selected more for their lyrics than how they fit together musically. It is, eclectic at best and you can find it [ here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL32zxeHEiOEx1X3HoVBBxfVk4aaGfgZSn)  
>  **Author's Note #3** I started this in 2003 and banged out almost twenty chapters in short order. I’m an unapologetic Connor fan but I hated big chunks of the storyline, mostly because it made no sense. This grew out of that, especially when I thought ‘magic _never_ goes right in this universe.’ Thanks to Wipbigbang on dreamwidth/livejournal I finally finished in 2018. It was started before the Angel and Buffy comics and does not reflect that canon. And thanks to all my friends and readers over the years encouraging me to finish this one day.

CHAPTER ONE

_‘Cause now again I’ve found myself_

_So far down, away from the sun_

_That shines into the darkest place_

_I’m so far down, away from the sun again_

_Away from the sun again_

_**Away From the Sun - Three Doors Down** _

He took the spoon away from the flame of the jasmine-scented pillar candle then stuck the end of the needle into the liquid, drawing it, like mellifluous life, into the syringe. He took a deep breath in. There was something about the scent of jasmine that comforted him, made him feel at ease. He pulled the tourniquet tighter over his arm, the leather strap biting into the pattern of Celtic knot work that encircled his slender biceps, the tattoo a relic of another, happier life.

He tapped the hollow of his elbow, feeling the bulge of a vein. It was the only clean spot on his body, washed with a bit of alcohol-soaked cotton. With well-practiced ease, he slid the needle under his pale flesh, pocked with reddish track marks. The tip of his tongue curled over his upper lip, tasting his own salt, the familiar burning sensation filling his arm as he pumped the heroin in. He set the syringe aside and wiped his arm with alcohol then released the tourniquet. Once, he had gotten an infection in his arm from shooting up and ever since took as much care as he could; cotton, alcohol, neosporin all stolen from a pharmacy and a fresh needle every time thanks to Sister Marion and her anti-AIDS-Hep C campaign. He let his head fall back against the moldy stuffing of the battered chair as the warm rush flooded him, sweet and pleasurable as an orgasm. Better even. Heroin quieted the murmurs inside his brain, banished the terrible monsters he saw in his mind’s eye. Sweet Dreams was like being wrapped in a warm security blanket where vampires and demons couldn’t get him anymore. He knew they weren’t real but on his own, without the bright sunlight of the opiod running through his veins, their apparent realness overwhelmed him. 

He looked out the dirty bay window into the street. Sunlight shimmered on the tarmac, waves of heat rising up. This was the part of L.A. those in Beverly Hills liked to pretend didn’t exist. Houses like his had been left to rot, and he and his crew had moved in like rats. He didn’t know how many runaways there were in his little patch of the world. His own home usually had six or seven kids sheltering within.

He shifted so he could breathe in the delicate perfume of the candle more easily. He thought again of sunlight, his saving grace. Sunny, he remembered that name from somewhere. She was his angel, telling him about the medicine that could make everything better. She’d been right about Sweet Dreams. He couldn’t find Sunny any more, if she ever existed, but he knew he owed her something.

Hearing footsteps racing into his room, he sat up, twisting sharply. No one just entered his room without permission. He was responsible for this house. He protected the street kids who lived with him and that was one of the rules; you knocked before entering. His room was the biggest and the best. He owned the most stuff, which didn’t mean much. Ratter, a tiny tortoise shell cat, kept his home fairly clean of vermin. Ratter meowed at the intruders and hurried through a hole in the wall.

He looked at the dirty faces of two of his favorite girls, Misty and Darts. Misty was the oldest at seventeen, her brown hair pulled into a wild spray of little tails making her head look like a star gum shell. Darts was a year younger and had grown up in her daddy’s bar hustling at the game she was named for. They contrasted beautifully; Misty the color of dark wood and Darts like a freshwater pearl in sunlight. The third girl of their little group was oddly not with them, delicate little Lian, model pretty. She was his special charge, barely thirteen. He took it on himself to protect her from the predators of the night.

“Angelboy, you have to come quick!” Darts said, grabbing his arm.

“What’s wrong?” He didn’t want to get up. His high was just starting, his stomach twisting and churning a bit as was usual, and all he wanted to do was sit back and ride the sunshine.

“Lian’s dead,” Misty replied.

The sunshine faded to dark.

X X X

Angelboy followed Misty and Darts several blocks away to another section of abandoned buildings. He knew at least one of them was a squat but the girls didn’t go there. They went into a deserted church, the tiny heart of a community long gone. Inside, he smelled the residuals of marijuana and meth but they were nearly overwhelmed by the reek of blood, and something foul like an overflowing septic tank. The buzz of flies echoed in the old church. 

“How did you find her?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at his companions. 

“Two Two said he saw Lian here last night with Night Rain. They were here for a rave,” Darts said, her chewed bottom lip disappearing between her teeth for another gnawing.

“If we knew, we would have stopped her,” Misty said, disgust leaking into her voice.

Angelboy’s lip curled. He didn’t tell the kids in his house how to live outside his walls. Inside, he was the acknowledged ‘House Nazi,’ and what he said went but in the real world they were free. That was the way of the streets. They had had more than enough interference in the homes they had run away or been thrown out of but when they were as young as Lian, he took an interest in their lives. Lian had no business at a rave. Worse, Night Rain had brought her. Night Rain had no right to do that.

He crept forward, following the smell of blood. “Did Two Two tell you Lian was dead?

“No, just that she was here,” Darts said, stopping under a panel of broken stained glass. “We came looking for her when she didn’t show.”

Angelboy looked back at her. Reddish light, sweet sunshine through ruby glass, played over Dart’s pale face. He nodded sharply at her for her to take the lead but she didn’t move. He shrugged. He could probably follow his nose to where Lian was. He walked up to where the altar had been. Part of the flooring was retracted with steps leading down into a cement hollow. Inside, a spigot had bled rust down the wall leading to where Lian lay in the forgotten baptismal.

The smells of ruptured bowels and emptied bladders joined the stench of blood; that was the septic smell he had detected. Through the seething mass of flies he saw her throat had been torn open and her abdomen clawed apart; entrails looping over the shallow overhang of her hips like tinsel on a tree. One of her hands had been gnawed off. To her left, Night Rain rested in a concealing puddle of blood. She had been mauled in a similar manner, her face barely recognizable. Part of her raven hair was flipped to one side, the reddish underside of scalp making it look like a bad wig.

Angelboy turned, feeling his stomach churn, and it wasn’t from heroin. His buzz had long since been killed. Swallowing hard, he stared up at his companions, accusation in his eyes. “You didn’t say Night Rain was dead, too.”

Misty shrugged. “She’s not one of us, not our concern.”

Angelboy shot her an irritated look. He knew neither Misty nor Darts liked Night Rain and they were right; she wasn’t one of them. She came from a wealthy family and went to a special all-girls school. Somehow, she developed a taste for sneaking out and slumming it. It was common enough. Hanging with runaways was a dangerous thrill for bored rich kids.

Angelboy didn’t understand it. A good family was everything. Most of the runaways never had that but most of the slummers did. They didn’t have reason to put themselves in danger but Night Rain had been different. There had been a darkness in her, a hint that she believed the bad stuff he saw in his mind’s eye. She was a little like him. He had a good family until his hallucinations worsened and he turned to drugs for relief.

He hadn’t been above using her. Night Rain was his bang, another reason for Misty to be jealous. Darts didn’t like boys to touch her so she didn’t care as much. Either way, they were too young for him even if Misty didn’t see it that way. Neither understood why he kept Night Rain around. Truthfully, he hadn’t ever really liked Night Rain but she had money. She’d get him real food, sometimes enough to share with his kids, and gave him money so he could score without resorting to stealing or selling himself. All right, he mentally amended, he sold himself to her because she wouldn’t give him cash unless he’d let her spend most of the night with him and do to him whatever her dark fantasies dreamed up. Better yet, she liked to thumb her nose at her parents by taking him home when they were gone, which was most of the time. He could get a real shower there. It helped with the itchiness of his filthy, flea-bitten, lice-beset body. He didn’t particularly like Night Rain but he’d miss her.

He saw something odd on the far side of the baptismal. It looked like large, bloody paw prints. A bit further away was a print that looked like a human foot. The first thought in his mind was werewolf but he knew that was just the junk in his head. They weren’t real. He’d need to put more of ‘The Witch’ in his veins to chase the monsters away.

“What do we do, Angelboy?” Darts asked.

He spun on heel and left the church. They followed him. He had to walk a few blocks to find a pay phone. They had become rarer now that most people had cellulars. He placed a quick call to 911 then headed back for his home.

“You called the cops,” Misty said in disbelief, her arms crossing defensively over her ample chest.

“Never trust them,” Darts added, tossing her long, lank blonde hair.

He faced them, his eyes glistening. “Lian deserves to be found. She deserves to be put to rest,” he said sternly, and they bowed their heads.

Angelboy said nothing else. He went home and locked himself in his room. He didn’t want to shoot up again so soon, so he got his pipe and sat down to chase the tiger. As the opiate-laden smoke burned into his lungs, Angelboy cried silently, his pain not for sharing. 

 

 


	2. Bad News Travels Fast

Chapter Two

_There’s always room here for the lonely To watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon **Neon Moon - Brooks and Dunn** _

Angel looked out the necro-tempered windows at the bright orb of the sun, wondering why it never seemed to warm him. Warm or not, some days the view seemed like the best part of the deal he’d made with Wolfram and Hart. He, Fred, Gunn and Lorne were still working for the law firm. Wes had accepted the Watchers’ offer to return to the fold and rebuild.

Angel wondered if Wes would have gone if not for the unique circumstances; hundreds of new Slayers needing training; the Watchers’ desire to rebuild in a less centralized way; the nagging feeling that Wolfram and Hart were up to something evil, though it had yet to manifest whatever the reason. Now Wesley was Faith’s Watcher in Cleveland.

Spike was with them. In a manner similar to how hell had spat Angel back to earth for no known reason, Spike had also been returned, utterly human. Wes felt fairly sure it wasn’t Shanshu, believing other prophecies still indicated that was Angel’s destiny. At this point, Angel wasn’t sure he cared. Buffy was already in her mid-thirties. Knowing the Powers that Be, they’d make him human in time for her eightieth birthday. 

Spike stayed with Angel for a year, perhaps a little more, before it was obvious someone was going to be torn into bloody shreds or left as dust in the wind. Spike headed to Cleveland and became a de facto Watcher. “Of all bloody things,” Angel said to no one, doing his best Spike imitation.

Angel watched a cloud sail over the face of the sun, blotting it and taking on a golden glow. Where had the last decade gone? Of course, as a vampire, time tended to fly by and stand still at the same time. How could Connor have been gone from his life for so long? He had lost track of his child once Connor had left for school. He had wanted to follow him there, just to check up on him but life, as it so often did, got in the way, and then it became less painful not to torture himself with something he couldn’t have. His faith that Connor finally had all the chances to be happy that his former life had denied him is what kept Angel going.

During those ten years, life had gone on, and very eventfully at that. Buffy had found herself like she wanted to and returned to L.A. She and Giles headed the West Coast Watchers’ Council. It had the largest training school for the new Slayers in America. It purported to be an exclusive all-girl academy. They felt it was better to have the school here away from the Hellmouth. They even had an off-campus satellite college prep school for normal girls, to keep down suspicions and to generate more money. Sanctuary spells kept the schools safe. Buffy still occasionally kidded him as to what it was that he had done to keep the Sisters sighing his name and giggling. He still dreaded not being able to keep Buffy away when the spell was being cast.

Dawn had gone to art college in New York. On the surface, she was a teacher for the Slayer School, Brisbane Academy, but in truth, she was a Watcher like Willow and Xander. Robin had recovered from his injuries and was now the principal of Brisbane. Xander was a front man for the school. He had a way with people, friendly and affable. He did the bulk of the fund-raising. Willow had gone back to college, and had just finished her residency, becoming a doctor for the Council. 

Angel was grateful to have them back in LA. They all lived in the Hyperion, which had been made into housing for the Watchers and a hotel for incoming students after it had been shored up and renovated. The penthouse had been turned into his and Buffy’s home.

She had come to a decision during her journey to self; she still wanted him. He was beyond gratified for that but he was well aware she knew something was wrong in their relationship. He had told her about the curse only working when he was truly happy. Sex alone wouldn’t do it, he needed a moment of bliss. She had asked how he knew and why he was clarifying the point, and hadn’t been pleased over the announcement that he had slept with Darla and that things in his life were so grim now he couldn’t possibly be entirely happy, not even with her.

He’d expected verbal battles to be waged over this and over him keeping secrets, him not telling Buffy why he was so unhappy and those battles were fought. They hurt. He feared he’d lose her, but he couldn’t tell Buffy about the source of his pain: Connor. Eventually she forgave that and the inevitable happened just as they both knew it would. Buffy had returned to LA expecting it.

Love, unhindered by the curse, drew them together again. Angel felt guilty about the secrets, about only being able to offer her a profoundly unhappy man. What a cruel twist of fate that he could circumvent the curse and be with the woman he loved but only so long as he was miserable. He thought she deserved more and she should go find it, even falling on the sword and suggesting Spike now that he was human. Buffy told him that if he didn’t let her make her own decisions on what was best for her, she would leave and never return. He knew it wasn’t an idle threat. She was in California for him. Giles didn’t need her to teach at the school. That was just icing on the cake.

So, Angel stopped telling Buffy how to live her life, and they were relatively content. Happy enough but not so happy as to be a threat. Angel wondered if she felt the hollowness inside him when they made love. Sometimes she asked what had happened to him to make him so sad, as if she could sense the Connor-sized rent in his soul. His answer was always the same he had to keep it secret. He knew it hurt her. He hated it but there was no way to do it without risking exposing the spell. Maybe he should trust Buffy. Maybe one day he would.

A sharp, almost perky, rap sounded on the door preceding Cordelia’s entrance. Angel never stopped being stunned by how beautiful she was. Her hair fell in walnut waves to her waist and the green of her dress highlighted her olive skin. Angel took it as a sign of Buffy’s new maturity that she handled Cordelia’s presence remarkably well, even knowing what Cordelia had meant to him. It might have to do with pity but he preferred to think it was more that Buffy trusted him. He knew she understood that it was over between he and Cordelia just like it was between her and Spike.

Still, even Angel had trouble exorcizing all pity in regards to Cordelia. By just looking at her, it wasn’t apparent that anything was wrong but once anyone started talking to Cordelia it was easy to tell she hadn’t escaped giving birth to Jasmine unscathed. In his day, they would have called her simple. Cordelia came out of her coma with her mental processes and abilities trapped at an adolescent level, and she tended to forget the new things taught to her, not uncommon for people suffering head trauma.

Angel promised to care for her as long as necessary, especially since her family deserted her. At the office, she was his personal assistant, and she was very good at helping Xander with the public functions for Brisbane. Unfortunately, the visions still plagued her. The demon aspect allowed them to come painlessly but they frightened her now, sometimes to the point of hysteria. Listening to horrible things in meetings wasn’t the same as the terror of grisly sights splashing across the mind’s eye, the stench filling her nose or the sounds and touches that the visions imparted.

Cordelia’s pretty face was pinched, however, and he had to wonder what was wrong. So long as she didn’t get too far afield from her daily routine, Cordy functioned so well he almost forgot her handicaps but throw in something unusual and she could get flustered. It made her useless to them in the field so she no longer came along on missions, even though she did remember doing it in the past. Most of her memory had been wiped as far as the last few years before becoming pregnant. She remembered most of Sunnydale, and she remembered her friends in Angel Investigations but only in a vague way. Those friendships had to be reforged. 

She had forgotten the threat Wolfram and Hart had once been, and he couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. She had no memories at all of Jasmine or the Beast, which was just as well. Of course, most people in LA only had vague memories of Jasmine and tended to think of her as a flash in the pan TV cult personality. Only Lilah and those in Angel Investigations had clear memories. In the end, they told Cordelia she had been in a bad car wreck and that’s what had affected her memory and made it hard for her to learn new things.

“Is something wrong, Cordy?” he asked, getting up and going to her.

“Buffy, Giles, Willow and Xander are on their way up,” she said. “Something bad happened.”

Angel gritted his teeth. For all four of them to show up unannounced when they should be at the school didn’t bode well. “You don’t have to stay and listen, Cordy.” He routinely tried to shield her as much as possible but often she preferred to stay and do what she could to help. Sometimes she had good insights, or at least saw things from a different angle. Giles and Willow tended to overcomplicate things.  
“I’ll stay.”

Angel nodded toward one of the comfortable overstuffed chairs and Cordelia sat. He didn’t have time to prepare for disaster when Buffy strode in with Willow right on her heels, a study in light and fire. Buffy’s blonde locks brushed her shoulders and Willow’s hair had been clipped short like a fiery halo, streaked with a witch’s lock of white. Xander came in with Giles. Angel wondered if the younger man knew how lucky he was to have three such lovely women as friends, five counting Dawn and Fred. Angel knew Giles appreciated his situation, as he himself did.

“What happened?” he asked.

“We lost one of the Slayers last night.” Buffy sat on the edge of his desk, her face dark with anger.

“Who?” Cordelia asked, her brown eyes wide.

“I didn’t realize you had any of the girls out last night,” Angel said at the same time, settling back down.

“We didn’t. We don’t know why Amaya Mitsu was out. She shouldn’t have been. She was supposed to be home with her parents,” Willow said.

“She might not even been on patrol,” Buffy said. “She was nineteen. She could have just been out.”

“She liked to party,” Xander added, sitting next to Cordelia, leaving the chair closest to the desk for Giles.

“They found her in an abandoned church with another young girl. Whoever called 911 identified them as Lian and Night Rain. I’ve informed the police that I believe that Amaya was Night Rain as that is the direct translation of her name from the Japanese,” Giles said, scrubbing a strong hand through his completely ashen, thin hair.

“We got lucky. Kate caught this case,” Buffy added.

Angel nodded. Kate had returned to LA Homicide four years ago. Angel found that after she had left, she had transferred to Special Victims but had grown tired of endless rape cases. “Good, she’ll work with us.”

“I’m listed as Amaya’s doctor,” Willow said, “and the medical examiner asked me some questions. Doing Amaya’s autopsy this afternoon, he sent off her blood for analysis and they found ecstasy in her system so I’m thinking Xander’s ‘she went out to party’ theory is pretty likely.”

“Kate did say they believed there had been a rave at the church,” Buffy said. “Found lots of drugs, I guess. I had no idea Amaya was into that. I mean, she always came across as the spoiled little rich girl.” She shot Cordelia an apologetic look. “So I guess maybe I shouldn’t be shocked.”

Angel nodded. He had met Amaya once. She reminded him of a young Cordelia or Kennedy. He wasn’t surprised that she had come to an early end. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

“There’s more,” Willow said. “I shouldn’t be saying but it might be important if we’re going to find out who killed her. She had pubic lice, you know, crabs. It’s the one STD condoms won’t help with since they’re on the hairs. The medical examiner tested her for other STD’s but we won’t know about them until later. There didn’t seem to be any evidence of sexual activity on Amaya’s part last night. The thing is, crabs usually come from dirty conditions. We’re talking a rich girl in a very clean school, so where did she pick them up?”

“Probably someone she met at the rave. It’s possible the medical examiner could miss consensual sex, right? It’s not like it always leaves bruises. That someone might have killed her,” Buffy mumbled. “Dawn is talking to some of Amaya’s friends with Robin and Kate, who promises to drop by tonight with pictures we might like to see of the crime scene.”

“Good. Do you know anything about how she died?” Angel asked.

“Torn apart. Kate and the medical examiner both said it was like a wild animal got them. I think they’re even looking for pit bulls that escaped a fight ring,” Willow answered.

“Xander and I have to meet with her parents to express our condolences and to see if they know anything,” Giles said wearily, dread in his blue eyes. “I remember how proud her father was when we recruited Amaya.”

“Is he even here?” Cordelia asked. “Doesn’t he work in Tokyo?”

Angel lifted an eyebrow. He was surprised Cordelia remembered that but in her reversion to her younger mind set, she did have a sharp mind for fashion and money and Mitsu obviously had that.

“Yeah, Amaya’s a parachute kid,” Buffy said then off Angel’s confused look added, “That’s what they call Asian kids whose parents have lots of money and power in their homelands and who send their kids here to live alone. Amaya’s parents are only in their L.A. home a few months out of the year.”

“As bad as it sounds, I guess we were lucky that her parents were here for a two-week visit when this happened. They can’t blame the school for her sneaking out since she wasn’t with us at the time,” Xander said, sounding very apologetic for thinking it.

“Good point. Do you just want to meet back here tonight when Kate gets free? I’ll have Gunn and Fred meet us or would you rather have Kate go to the Hyperion?” Angel asked.

“No offense, but this place just gives me the creeps,” Buffy said, waving her hands at his office’s walls.

“The Hyperion it is.” Angel felt relieved. He had his reservations about doing non-Wolfram and Hart related business in the building. He still did not completely trust them. “I’ll call Kate and let her know.”

“Thanks. I’m going to meet up with Dawn and go talk to the girls, just to be sure Amaya wasn’t sneaking out to do a little slaying and got in over her head,” Buffy said.

Angel knew that after the disaster with Kennedy, the Watchers had taken a slightly different approach to the whole Slayer issue. A year after Buffy had done her bit with the First and spread the Slayer powers out around the world, Kennedy and some of the younger Slayers had insisted on not waiting for back-up in Cleveland, Kennedy confident she could handle anything. They disappeared into the Hellmouth, never to be seen again. Given how many Slayers they had to work with, the Watchers went conservative and took more time to properly train them and no one was supposed to go out until she officially graduated from the training schools and was assigned a Watcher. They had even put off contacting the very youngest of the girls until they were a bit older and able to make the most of their training. “Good luck with that.”

Giles got up and headed out with Xander and Willow following. Cordy went with them. Angel watched the dynamics of the younger trio. He wondered if Xander would finally hook up with Cordelia. A blind man could see she was interested though for the death of him Angel couldn’t figure out why. He knew Xander was still fond of Cordelia, highly protective of her, but seemed to see anyone’s interest in her as taking advantage of her state. Angel didn’t know why he was even thinking about it except maybe because it concerned Buffy, and she talked about it a lot.

Buffy lingered in his office and gave him a kiss once everyone was gone. “I really hate the senseless, you know.”

He nodded, putting his arms around her. “I know. Slayers are expected to die young.”

“In battle.” Buffy rested her head back against his chest. “Not at a rave and high on drugs.”

“It’s not your fault.”

She pulled away from him. “I know but it feels like it is. What if we just left her and all the other girls alone, don’t train them, don’t delude them into thinking they might be stronger than they are?’

“Then she’d be just as dead. You said so yourself. Amaya being a Slayer might not have had a thing to do with why she died,” Angel argued. “And you know you have to find these girls. They’re too strong. They’re a danger to others if they aren’t trained. Waiting as long as the Council decided to do is risky enough.”

Buffy nodded. “I can’t help feeling responsible, though. And now there’s a new Slayer out there who doesn’t even know it yet.” The Slayer power had gone strange after the First. All the Potentials had become Slayers and the Council had wondered when they died would the power just dissipate or go into infants. It turned out that it was still going to girls, but ones who hadn’t had enough potential the first time around to have been gifted. No one knew what the power going to second stringers meant. Buffy sighed. “I’d better go. I’ll see you tonight.”

She kissed him again and was gone. Angel sat back down heavily. Mr. Mitsu had to feel horrible, knowing his child was gone forever. Angel knew just how he felt.

X X X

“Dinner,” Cordelia said, paying the off the pizza man who arrived on Kate’s heels.

“I’ll get the plates,” Xander said, heading into the Hyperion’s kitchen.

Helping Cordy with the boxes, Angel glanced around at his collection of friends. Gunn had gone upstairs with Fred at the moment to help put their seven-year-old son to bed. Joshua had a penchant for staying up late. Lorne couldn’t make it, busy as ever with the latest reincarnation of Caritas but most everyone else was there. Dawn, Willow, Xander and Giles were the only Watchers present. Although the Hyperion was used for housing, only four Watchers outside of the inner core chose to take advantage. Angel knew it was hard to live with people you worked with.

Willow and Dawn sat with Buffy who looked tired. Angel had grown used to seeing her that way. He didn’t like it but long ago decided it was inevitable. Kate sat with them, waiting for Willow to finish setting up her laptop so she could download her digital pictures into it. Kate, like a lot of police, took her own crime scene photos to accompany those of CSU.

“Do we want to eat or look at the pictures first?” Dawn asked.

“Gruesome either way,” Kate assured her, shoving a stray blonde lock back into her pony tail. “Your Ms. Mitsu is the fifth girl to die in a similar manner in the last week.”

“Why haven’t we heard about it until now?” Fred asked as she came downstair with Gunn.

Kate glanced up at her. “Until Mitsu, they were all street kids.”

“In other words, no one gave a damn,” Gunn said, his face a cold mask.

“Exactly. But L.A. isn’t going to let a wealthy young lady’s death go unnoticed,” Kate said, hitting the button to begin uploading.

The crew got their pizza, too jaded to be grossed out by crime scene photos, or so they thought. They mostly picked at their meals after seeing how Amaya and her companion had been torn apart.

“They look like they’ve been eaten. The ME says that the disemboweling could have been from claws and there are bite marks on the bones. Both hearts are gone. Given what I know about demon life in this city, I’m not betting this is the work of a pack of pit bulls like the rest of my colleagues are,” Kate said.

“It’s possible it’s a werewolf,” Willow said.

“They’re not the only thing that eats their prey,” Cordy stated the obvious.

“Not by a long shot,” Angel replied.

“We don’t have enough to go on just from these pictures,” Giles said. “Do you remember any smells, Kate? Anything odd that might help?”

Kate shook her head. “Only the smells of someone lying dead for several hours. No slime, or scales or anything to suggest it was a demon. Only this.” She tapped the keys and brought up a picture of bloody footprints. “Is it me or does that look like an animal print turning into a human’s?”

“It’s not a full moon. Are there werewolves who can control their change in spite of that? I mean outside of Oz.” Xander stuffed the end of the pizza slice into his mouth.

“Oz was a special case but there could be others,” Giles replied. “Still, this is helpful. There are other types of shape shifters.”

“If I knew where Oz was, I could ask him,” Willow said.

“Do we know who the street girl with Amaya was?” Buffy asked.

“Lian, just like the 911 caller said. I checked with the gang task force. They know a lot of the street kids, too, use some as confidential informants. Lian was never arrested that I could find but Ivanovich with the task force knew her picture. Lian was very young when she slipped out of juvenile hall when they were trying to find her family. Ivanovich said Lian’s _dai lo_ was Angelboy,” Kate said. Everyone cast a look Angel’s way, and he shrugged as if to say, ‘my name’s hardly unique.’

“Her what?” Dawn asked.

“ _Dai lo_ , it’s Chinese for ‘older brother.’ It’s also used as a gang term for the older gang members who recruit and use the younger members,” Kate explained.

“So Angelboy’s a Chinese gang member? Gangs do get involved in dog fighting.” Gunn’s face took on a smoldering angry look. “There’s probably lots of money to be made in watching humans get pulled apart in a ring.”

“Disgusting but true,” Kate said. “But no, I asked. Angelboy’s Caucasian. Ivanovich thinks Lian called him her _dai lo_ because Angelboy is the House Nazi. That means he’s the head of the squat. He takes care of the runaways who live in his home. From everything Ivanovich knows, Angelboy is known to take good care of his kids and protects them from the users out there. That’s how he got the name. He’s also a junkie. Ivanovich thinks Angelboy might have been the 911 caller, but she can’t be sure from the tape.”

“So now what?” Buffy asked.

“Now I tell you that this is official police business and leave the investigating to us.” Kate clapped her hands together. “But since I know that’s not going to take, you guys concentrate on the demon aspects and I’ll take the more mundane route. I’ll leave the pictures on Willow’s hard drive and hope to hell no one catches me. Then I’m going to help myself to more pizza because I pulled a double shift working on this and I’m starving.”

Angel pushed the box closer to her. “Do you think this Angelboy is involved in the girls’ deaths?”

“Ivanovich doubted it. I haven’t had time to get Angelboy’s pedigree yet so I don’t know what all he’s into. I was thinking of reaching out to him and see what he knows. Four of the victims were street kids like him,” Kate said. “And I was hoping you could help with that, Angel.”

“How so?”

“If I bring Angelboy into a police station, he’ll give me nothing even if he wants to help find Lian’s killer. That’s the nature of the beast. No junkie street kid is going to trust a cop. I was hoping to put it out there that Angel Investigators are looking to talk to him.”

“Why would he trust me any more than he would a cop?” Angel asked.

“For one, you can’t arrest him,” Kate said. “And if you offer a sit down for, let’s say lunch at your office, he might feel more at ease.”

 

“He might think you’re respecting him, Angel. I’ve known gang leaders to go in for that in a big way,” Gunn said. “Street kids make their own rules but when I was out there, they wanted respect for their ways. You ask him to meet you like an equal, and it could go over good.”

“All right but who’s going to talk to him? We all can’t be there. That would overwhelm anyone,” Angel said.

“I’ll be there,” Kate said. “I don’t know Angelboy so there’s every reason to think he doesn’t know me. L.A.’s too big for him to know every cop. Gunn should be there, too. It’s been a while since he was hanging with a gang, as odd of a one as it was, but he had a better feel for the way it works. You’ll be there, of course, Angel. And I think Buffy and Willow. Giles might be mistaken for a detective but Willow knows all the demony stuff.” 

“Think I might be an asset?” Dawn asked. “I did my photography thesis on the...uh more unusual areas of New York City so I’ve talked with a very strange section of society including street kids, and I know all the demony stuff, too.” 

Kate nodded. “Fine, but that’s it. Too many people and he’s likely to spook.”

“Get the word out there. We’ll be ready.” Angel scowled. “Lilah’s around again. She takes an interest in anything I do in the office.”

“Doesn’t she have the good sense to stay dead?” Kate asked.

“Some people have no manners,” Willow dead panned.

“In Lilah’s defense, and I never thought I’d say that, I don’t think she gets to pick when Wolfram and Hart will ask her back to work. But I can guarantee, she sees all of us there having a meeting and she’ll want to know why,” Angel replied.

“Tell her you’re meeting a stinky drug addict for lunch and ask if you could use her office to set up the monster sub sandwich,” Fred offered, twisting her hair around her finger playfully.

Angel smirked. “I’ll do that.”

“Don’t hit me for jinxing things, but am I the only one who thinks this is going to get really bad?” Xander asked then scrunched in on himself as Dawn, Willow and Buffy simultaneously  
pinched him. Giles just rolled his eyes and had another slice of pizza. No one said anything. They were all thinking the same thing.


	3. Meeting Angelboy

CHAPTER THREE

_You don’t remember me_

_  
_

But I remember you

I lie awake and try so hard

not to think of you

but who can decide what they dream?

_And dream I do..._

**Taking over me – Evanscence**

Angel came up through the sewers to Wolfram and Hart’s building and found his friends already waiting for him in his office with Lilah. The dead lawyer looked most unhappy. Maybe it was how ugly pink her scarf was. Angel shook his head. Cordelia had rubbed off on him. No surprise there. When he thought about it, he had known her, Buffy and the rest of the Scoobies for nearly twenty years now.

“You’re late,” Lilah snapped, straightening the pearl pin on her scarf.

“I ran into a vampire nest.” Angel brushed some stray dust off his clothing. “You’d think they’d know enough to stay out of my territory.”

“You’d think they’d look at me and say, ‘Slayer! Run!’ but they don’t. You almost feel embarrassed for them,” Buffy said, smiling faintly.

“Exactly.” Angel leaned on the door frame. “Did he get here?”

Kate nodded. “We put him in the conference room. I was just about to go check on him. Junkies aren’t known for waiting patiently, and there was that incident with the security guards.”

“Yes. Angel, next time you invite the fragrant homeless here, let the guards know before it gets ugly.” Lilah sniffed. “And why in the hell did you ask him here?”

Angel wondered at the strange little self-satisfied smirk on Lilah’s lip, like she knew something he didn’t. “We need to talk to him,” he replied.

“Which might be a little harder now. Either he fixed before he came and now he’s coming down and getting cranky or he didn’t shoot up and by now he’s really jonesing,” Kate said in a tone that suggested Angel shouldn’t have taken the time to eradicate the nest.

“We should get this over with,” Buffy said as Cordelia took a few shaky steps backwards.

Angel moved closer, seeing her eyes white out.

“Incoming,” Gunn mumbled.

“Cordy, what do you see?” Willow asked. 

She shook her head. “Animal person...can’t see what kind...too dark. There’s a young man. He’s so sad and confused.” Cordelia’s eyes cleared and everyone looked at her as if to say, ‘that’s all?’ She rubbed her eyes. “Sorry. They didn’t give me much.”

“One has to wonder why they bothered.” Lilah arched an eyebrow at Cordelia who pouted.

“Why are you even here, Lilah?” Angel asked. “We don’t need you for this.”

“Meetings, meeting and more meetings.” Lilah shuddered. “Hell’s preferable. Also your Mr. Giles and Mr. Wood wanted someone to look over the poorly drafted learning, participation and disciplinary guidelines for the school.”

“I assumed one of the young lawyers or paralegals would do that,” Angel said. “Or Gunn if he ever gets a chance.”

Gunn shook his head. “Still regretting the whole implant law school into my head. Do you have any idea how damn boring that is?”

Lilah shrugged. “Some things are better done yourself. I have all the paperwork on my desk.”

Angel felt vaguely nervous about that. He was still somehow waiting for Lilah and Wolfram and Hart to do an about-face and march back into evil. He also didn’t like associations between the school and the law firm. He wanted Buffy and the girls isolated as much as possible from Wolfram and Hart just in case the worst happened.

Lilah led the way to the conference room. Cordelia, not invited along, went to her office, the anteroom to Angel’s office.

Angel stared for a moment, wishing he was more stunned by Lilah’s impertinence at tagging along. “Lilah, you’re not invited.”

She gave him a look and said nothing. When Lilah opened the door, they didn’t find a street kid. Instead, a meeting was underway. Angel’s nose twitched. Something strangely familiar under laid the strong scents of perfume and cologne clogging the room but it was too diluted for him to tell what it was. The lawyers looked up at them and Lilah scowled back.

“Where’s the guy who was in here?” she asked.

“The air conditioner in conference room 381 is on the blink so they moved us up here,” one of them replied. “We put the beggar out.”

“Damn it,” Kate mumbled, her face going red.

“Any idea where he went?” Lilah asked and didn’t get back a positive answer. She shut the door with a loud bang.

“Sorry, Angel. I made a bad call,” Kate said. “I didn’t want us in the room with him until you got there. Having to meet with underlings can be seen as a sign of disrespect.” She added air quotes to ‘underling.’ “And he wouldn’t have wanted to wait with us for that hour until you made it here for the questions to start.”

“I trust your judgement, Kate. You deal with these kinds of people all the time. Maybe he’s here. He made the effort to come here so he probably has something he wants to tell us. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered,” Angel said, trying to remain optimistic since this was so important to Buffy and her friends.

“Call down and see if security saw him leave,” Kate suggested.

“Maybe we should look for him,” Dawn said, sensibly.

“We could start with my office.” Lilah pointed down the hall. “Since I know I didn’t shut my door.”

Angel curled his lip at how easily Lilah insinuated herself back into the situation. He pushed past her, striding down the hall, Buffy right on his heels. He could feel her irritation. Her unusual silence spoke volumes to him. She was taking Amaya’s death very personally. He paused, his fingers on the door knob, taking a deep breath in. He thought again that he smelled something familiar but impossible. It was more definite here than in the conference room. Scents triggered memories. That was all this was because it couldn’t be what it smelled like.

He opened the door. The closed room had taken on a pungent odor, like the inside of a gym; stale sweat mixed with something more acrid. Lilah’s nose crinkled as she stalked into her office. An open box of donuts sat on her desk, next to a spoon. A tiny acetylene torch rested on some paperwork and the Corinthian leather desk chair was twisted so the back butted up against the rosewood desk. If someone was sitting in the chair, he had a nice view of Los Angeles.

Angel went around the desk to the left and Lilah to the right. He glanced down at the dirty skeleton of a man dressed in clothing too big for him; a faded black duster with holes and ragged hem, crusted black denim pants and a black-fading-to-grey T-shirt reading, ‘My day’s not complete until I’ve freaked out a total stranger.’ His romper-stomper boots seemed newish. A tight bit of latex was wrapped around his arm, the veins below it bulging, blue against his pale flesh, one of them hungrily swallowing the needle. The young man’s body trembled uncontrollably. Angel watched him finish filling his veins with whatever drug he was on.

Angelboy glanced up at him, shaking his head so his lank, long, greasy brown hair slipped back out of his eyes. The pupils were practically constricting as Angel stared into those blue depths. A wide grin broke out over his bearded face. If he didn’t know better, Angel would have guessed his age as just shy of twenty. “You caught me, man.”

Angel couldn’t talk. He felt like ‘killer of the dead’ burned its way through his body again. His legs went weak. It was all he could do not to fall backwards. He glanced over at Lilah and understood the earlier smirk. Lilah had known exactly who it was he was meeting, and her attitude had all been an act. He didn’t know how or why. That wasn’t important. What mattered was he had been lied to.

Angel wanted to move, to pace, to explode, to maim something but he was frozen. All this time he believed his son had moved to New York to go to school and was somewhere living a good, happy life. Instead, Connor, or what was left of him, sat cross-legged in Lilah’s chair, high enough to go sliding down rainbows. His boy was a street junkie. How could he not have known? Shouldn’t he have had a clue? Felt something wrong? Obviously from Lilah’s reaction, Wolfram and Hart did a better job of keeping track of Connor than he had.

He had imagined all these wonderful scenarios where Connor had a good job, wife, kids of his own and now he was staring at a tiny caricature of himself before Whistler came to him to give him to Buffy; filthy, rank, more dead than alive. Angel didn’t know how or why he was restraining himself from pulling Lilah’s poorly attached head off and punting it out the window.

He felt a hand on his arm and looked down into Buffy’s upturned face. He saw the question in her eyes. She knew something was wrong. He shook his head quickly as Connor untied the tourniquet, and then put his syringe and latex back into a leather case along with the spoon and torch with amazing, almost loving, care. He slipped the whole thing into the pocket of his duster. “Co-” Angel bit off the name before it made it out. “Angelboy?”

The blue eyes canted over at him again. “Yeah? Sorry, I waited like forever for you guys. Tried to take my mind off...hurting, but it didn’t work.” He stabbed a finger at the paperwork.

Willow picked it up. “This was the school’s paperwork. You wrote all over it!” She shot him an annoyed look.

“Yeah, that was drafted by a second year law student or something. It was really bad. I fixed it for you.” He grinned, and then spun the chair around and around.

“You did?” Buffy couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice as she stopped the gyration of the chair.

“Yeah.” Angelboy scowled at her for ruining his fun, and then stabbed a dirty finger at the donuts. His shaking was already dying off as the drug worked the receptors in his brain. “Took my payment already.”

“You ate my donuts? Those were for this afternoon’s meeting,” Lilah snapped.

“Sorry. I was hoping the sugar would take the edge off. It did but not long enough,” Angelboy replied. “You can have the rest back.”

Angel couldn’t handle hearing it. The thought of his child trying to stave off his drug cravings with sugar crushed him. His mind blipped to the insane cravings he had felt trapped at the bottom of the ocean courtesy of Connor and felt pity. He started pacing around the room. Dawn moved out of his way, sparing him a concerned look.

“They’re yours.” Lilah shoved the box at him.

He took the insult with a scowl but carefully resealed the box, cradling it protectively. “Which of you are the Angel Investigations detectives?”

“We all are, except her, and she won’t be joining us for the talk.” Angel paused in his pacing to nod at Lilah but couldn’t look directly at her. If he did, he’d lose what little control he had. He knew Lilah would take that warning.

“And she wants you out of her office. I have a chair to burn and air fresheners to order,” Lilah said, and Angel forced himself to go to the other side of the room before things got so ugly he scared his son away.

Angelboy’s eyes narrowed, and he purposely ran his grimy hand over the desk.

“Follow us,” Angel said, secretly enjoying that bit of defiance. “We have that lunch we promised you.”

His voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. Connor stood up slowly, his limbs seeming leaden. Angel remembered opium dens. His son had that look in his eyes. Did people do opium anymore? The smell of Connor’s blood told him a narcotic of some kind pumped through him.

“Not really hungry now,” Angelboy said. “I heard on the street you wanted to talk to me about Lian and Night Rain.”

“Yes.” Angel walked ahead of Connor. He couldn’t look at him. Maybe if he didn’t look, it would drain all the energy from this nightmare and he’d wake up. Only he knew it was all too real. He saw Cordelia’s eyes widened as Connor moved past her, following Angel into the office. Angel motioned for Connor to sit, relieved Cordy hadn’t said anything snarky. She had gotten good about not doing that at work.

Cordelia came into the office, taking Angel’s arm as his son took off his duster and draped it over the back of the chair. “That’s the young man from the vision,” she whispered.

Angel shut his eyes. He didn’t want to think about what that meant. Connor being in Cordy’s vision could only mean bad things were yet to happen to his son. He had sacrificed his life with Connor to protect his baby, and it had been all for nothing. Now it was going to drop to an even darker level if the Powers That Be were right. They usually were. “Thanks, Cordy.”

She nodded and went back to her desk.

“You know, these corrections you made look good,” Willow said apropos of nothing, still flipping through the paperwork.

“Thanks.” Angelboy looked pleased with himself.

How could this shell of a human have fixed the paperwork? Angel wondered. There were too many pieces to this puzzle. Angel had never cared for puzzles. He sat and pointed to his friends, prepared to lie to Connor. It was easier than explaining that only Gunn was an investigator and that the girls were part of a special school and worse, Kate was a cop. “These are my investigators, Kate, Willow, Buffy, Dawn and Gunn.”

“And who’re you?” Angelboy asked, lolling in the chair.

“Angel.”

The younger man laughed. “Ain’t that a coincidence? What can your boy do for you?”

Angel tried to keep the emotion off his face. He knew that was just a turn of phrase. Connor didn’t recognize him. In this state, Angel doubted he could recognize anything. “Just what you heard, we want to know about Lian and Night Rain.”

“We need to know what Amaya...Night Rain was doing at a rave the night she died. That wasn’t like her,” Buffy said as Angel started his pacing again.

“ _De mortuis nil nisi bonum,_ ” Angelboy said, turning his head to track Angel. 

“What?” Buffy asked, as Kate’s phone rang. She stepped out into Cordy’s office to talk.

“We’re not asking you to speak ill of the dead,” Willow said, starting to reach for him, and then pulled back; either stopped by the smell or the idea of touching someone so filthy. Angel didn’t know which but thought years of medical residency would have cured Willow of that sort of squeamishness.

“Am I the only one who doesn’t speak Latin?” Buffy asked, exasperated, and Gunn shook his head.

“What was Night Rain to you?” Angelboy slithered further down in the chair. Angel thought if he relaxed any further Connor would pour out of the chair and puddle on the floor.

“We know her parents,” Dawn said, slipping back out of the room for a moment as her cellphone buzzed.

“Her parents could barely be bothered to come to this country and see how their kid was doing,” Angelboy replied, his eyes narrowing, a hint of anger punching through the mellow mask of the poison he had put in his veins. For a moment, Angel almost recognized the son he remembered in this bag of bones. His pacing picked up speed. “Funny how they care now that she’s dead.”

“We’re also associated with the school she went to,” Buffy said, ignoring the slight to the Mitsu family. She waved for Angel to sit down. “We knew Amaya, too.”

Angelboy’s nose wrinkled, his head snapping around desperately trying to keep Angel in sight.  
“Can you like roost somewhere, man? You are making me super paranoid. This talk’s enough of a buzzkill without that.”

Buffy kicked Angel’s desk chair his way, and he threw himself into it. She asked, “Do you know what Night Rain was doing the night she died?”

“No. Usually if she was in that part of town, she was there to see me,” Angelboy said, with a hint of pride.

“Why?” Buffy asked, going over to Angel’s chair, putting her hands on his shoulders to make sure he stayed put.

“I was hers, you know,” Angelboy replied, straightening in the chair a little.

Buffy grimaced. “No, I don’t.”

“Sure you do. You just don’t want to accept the poor little rich girl wanted someone like me,” he shot back as Kate returned.

Angel didn’t know if he was more disgusted by a girl with everything going for her, turning her back on it to sleep with a junkie or proud at the protective tone in his son’s voice when it came to the girls.

“Do you know how old Amaya was?” Kate asked, writing something in the notebook she had brought with her.

Angelboy’s eyes fixed on her, a very guarded expression coming over him. “Old enough to be legal.” 

“But a lot younger than you,” Kate said, and the others looked surprised. Angel realized they thought Connor was younger than he was, more like Amaya’s age. He wondered where she was going with her questions. He trusted her, though. This was part and parcel of her job and he knew she did it well.

Angelboy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a cop. I should have known better.” He started to get up.

Angel held out a hand. “No, please, stay. Kate’s not going to arrest you. She’s the cop who’s investigating the murders. We need your help. That’s why we asked you here.”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t forget that Lian died, too. She was every bit as important as Night Rain but you had to go and lie to me.” Angelboy stabbed a finger at Angel.

“And I’m sorry. We were afraid you wouldn’t have helped if you knew, and I believe you want to help. You obviously were concerned about the girls,” Angel said quickly.

Angelboy settled back down. “I was. Lian was my little sis. She was my responsibility, and someone killed her. Night Rain could take care of herself, or so I thought.”

“We’ll want to know more about why you thought that but first I have to ask, what was that call, Kate?” Angel asked, wishing Buffy would let him up so he could pace more but her nails dug into his shoulders.

“About our friend here, just getting his pedigree. Not much of a police record, except for one or two things I’d like to talk about,” Kate said.

“I didn’t kill them,” Angelboy replied quickly. “Cause I think you might think I did.”

“Actually, I don’t think you did.” Kate sat on the edge of the desk facing Connor. Angel saw how she drew his attention to her, trying to put him at ease. “That doesn’t jive with what I do know about you. They say you take good care of your kids but you’re a smart boy, Connor Hennessy.”

“Don’t call me that. Connor died a long time ago,” Angelboy said, and Angel winced.

“Sorry.” Kate spread her hands. “They said you did college and law school in six years.”

Angelboy grinned. “Notre Dame and then Columbia. Graduated _summa cum laude._ “

Angel sat back, totally stunned. He couldn’t help but feel insanely proud and horrifically sad at the same time. Connor had gotten his chance at a good life. His boy had been smarter than he had guessed, so what had gone so wrong that all the potential had dissolved into this?

“Law school? How did you end up...you know,” Buffy asked. She took her hands off Angel and moved closer to the windows.

Angel looked between his lover and his child. Buffy seemed embarrassed by what she had said but Connor didn’t seem offended.

“Hooked on heroin? When they Lanterman-Patris-Shorted me, they said my gears were mashing up.” He tapped his temple. “After failing miserably on anti-psychotic drugs, I started self-medicating.”

“Lanter...what?” Buffy asked.

“That’s a 72 hour involuntary mental health commitment,” Willow said, giving Angel a curious look. He knew she sensed something was wrong with him.

“Right out of this very building,” Angelboy said. “That’s why when I heard Angel Investigations working out of the Wolfram and Hart building, wanted to talk to me, I figured, ‘gotta do it. This is the place that turned me into Angelboy’.”

“What happened?” Angel whispered, his throat tight as he twisted the Claddagh ring around and around on his finger. What had Wolfram and Hart done to his boy? Had he been working with the people who had ruined Connor?

“They said it was schizophrenia with auditory and visual hallucinations. Wolfram and Hart drafted me right out of school. I was reporting to sign all contracts when I thought a vampire grabbed me in the lobby. She was pretty little thing with dark hair, called me ‘brother.’ I freaked. They committed me. The meltdown had been in the works for a while before that, though. I was seeing things in school. Bad dreams. Sometimes day dreams...hallucinations. Used to try and drive them away with weed. Didn’t work. My parents didn’t want me seeing a psychiatrist, thought it would negatively impact my law career. Shouldn’t have listened to them. Sweet Dreams works better, like now.” 

Angelboy smiled and waved a hand at Angel. “I used to see a two-faced monster who kinda looked like you but the sun would zap him so I guess you ain’t him.” He nodded to the sun streaming in through the necro-tempered glass. Everyone turned and stared at Angel who pointedly ignored them, not taking his eyes off of Connor. “If I weren’t high, I’d probably be freaking seeing you, but The Witch works powerful magic.”

Angel took a deep breath in, not knowing what to say. Had Wolfram and Hart’s spell leaked and his poor son thought he was going insane? Or had they done it on purpose? When this was done, he was going to do whatever was needed to get answers out of Lilah. He was glad he forbade Lilah to attend or he’d be rekilling her right now.

“So you wanna know about Night Rain and Lian?”

“Anything you can tell us,” Angel said, “But first have something to eat. We promised you lunch.”

“You sure?” Angelboy asked.

“We got it for you. Help yourself,” Angel said as Dawn slipped back into the room.

Angelboy did just that, not the least bit shy. However, he only took a tiny piece of sandwich but helped himself more liberally to the fruit. He sat down with his lunch as the others served themselves. He picked up a piece of pineapple with his long, grubby fingers. “I remember loving pineapple.”

“Take as much as you want,” Angel said as his son put the juicy yellow hunk of fruit in his mouth. His eyes shut as he chewed hungrily. He ate a second piece before Angel prompted, “Tell us about Lian and Night Rain.” 

“You’re not interested in Lian.”

“Yes, we are. She was a very young girl who died a terrible death. Someone has to pay for that,” Dawn said.

Angelboy pursed his lips as if considering whether or not Dawn was putting on an act. “She wasn’t even fourteen,” he said, and Dawn’s eyes widened like she had been slapped. “Not sure why she was with Night Rain. They didn’t like each other. Night Rain looked down on us, like we were all a bunch of losers who chose this life. Most of us are out there because we were thrown away or because home was a nightmare. It was Night Rain who made the choice, not Lian who was sold to a Jasmine trader when she was nine and brought here as a sex slave.”

Angelboy paused, his pale face blotchy with rage. “Sorry, you didn’t ask me here to lecture about throwaway kids.”

Angel tried not to flinch. He hadn’t thrown away his son, not really, but hearing Connor talk about not trying to work things through when they got tough, about just tossing the problem kids away hit home.

“I’ve never heard them called that,” Buffy said.

“It’s true. A lot of kids didn’t so much as run away as they were thrown out. They were too much trouble, or in many cases, too gay, easier to just wash your hands of them than to do the hard work it takes to be a family,” Angelboy replied, and Angel felt like a stake had found his heart.

“Pretty passionate about it,” Buffy said.

Connor grinned. “Should have heard me in mock court, I’m good at the speech making. My parents were terrified I’d open a clinic for the poor oppressed, which was not what they had in mind for their son the lawyer, but I’ll shut up now because this isn’t what you want to hear.”

“You are more forthcoming than I would have hoped for,” Kate said, “so tell the story any way you want.”

 

“Yeah, well, you want to keep me talking or I’ll nod off on you,” Angelboy said. “Sort of a drawback to shooting heroin.”

“Keep talking,” Gunn said, a hint of disgust in his voice.

“I wish I knew what I could tell you to help. Maybe Night Rain had Lian with her because I was mad that Night Rain was being mean all the time. She might have meant it as a peace offering but she could have found something better than a rave.”

“What I’m not getting is why Amaya was with you, and I’m not trying to be rude but you know what I mean,” Buffy said.

Angelboy nodded. “I’m _crazy_ , not stupid. I know exactly what you mean. She was with me for what she could do to me. For all I know, she had another normal boyfriend but she couldn’t take her dark side out on him.”

“What are you talking about?” Buffy asked, her eyes widening in horror as she realized what he might mean.

“I think you know. She paid me to let her do with me what she wanted,” he said, and Angel gripped the arm of his chair so hard it cracked. Everyone looked at him, and he tried to relax his grip, hoping the chair wouldn’t just fall apart. Angelboy cocked up an eyebrow.

“Paid...” Willow whispered.

Angelboy shrugged. “Heroin isn’t cheap. Neither’s food, and there’s a bunch of mouths to feed. I can only scrounge so much from Dumpsters.”

“Amaya wouldn’t...she wasn’t like that,” Buffy said but Angel felt it was more from disbelief that she had totally missed this side of the younger Slayer than the thought that Connor might be lying, or was she remembering how she used to treat Spike? He didn’t want to think about it.

Angelboy set his plate down, turned on the chair so he could show his back. He pulled his shirt up. Angel shuddered, seeing his son’s shoulder blades jutting against his pale flesh like wings ready to take flight. He could count every knob of Connor’s vertebrae and worse, all the ribs were so close to the skin, so little meat on him, that they looked like they could be simply plucked out.

Angel couldn’t tear his gaze away from Connor’s bared skin, and neither could anyone else. The horrible thinness of him aside, Connor’s back was a work of art. He had a tattoo of remarkable craftsmanship in blue. An Irish cross swept over his shoulders and up and down most of his spine. Angel knew this cross, it was one of the ones in the Book of Kells; he and Darla had gotten up to terrible mischief in sight of similar crosses in an Irish kirkyard.

The arms of the cross were alternating patterns of knot work, mazes and clusters of spirals. In the center of the cross stood seven circles. Angel knew they were the sun, moon and the five planets, all that was known at the time the Duleek cross had been made. The ring around the arms was made up of more knot work. At the base of the cross was a passionflower vine with three delicate purple flowers, and if he looked closely he could make out that the green leaves of the vine were stylized letters spelling out ‘Angelboy.’

Over the tattoo and the un-inked sections of his flesh were varying contusions. Angelus had loved playing with whips and the like so Angel could identify the types of bruises. He’d bet the finger-wide ones were from a riding crop and the thin crisscrossing ones were unmistakably from a cat o’ nine tails. There were marks that looked like burns, and one or two that seemed like bite marks but he didn’t know what could have made them, rats maybe; they were too small to be human. If Amaya had done this as his son claimed, she had more than a little darkness in her.

“That’s beautiful work,” Dawn blurted out, and Angelboy dropped his shirt, looking over his shoulder at her. Dawn flushed. “I meant the tattoo.”

“It was done by a true artist. She would have covered me with ink but at that time I thought I had this great law career waiting for me.” Angelboy laughed bitterly. 

“I know that art. Why do I know that art?” Dawn mused, her brow beetling.

Connor gave another acerbic laugh. “Oh, Dawnie, I don’t blame you for not recognizing me. It’s been a long while, and I looked so much better back in New York.”

Dawn gasped, covering her mouth as both Angel and Buffy stared at her. “Connor! Oh my god, I didn’t recognize you. I thought…well Connor is such a common Irish name.”

He shook his head. “Connor’s long gone, Dawn. I’m what’s left, and fuck, I barely recognize me these days. I was afraid you were just a very pleasant delusion. Most of mine are straight out of a horror flick but I was hoping I’d gotten lucky this time. Guess you’re really here.”

“Dawn?” Buffy asked.

“Remember my friend, Haven, Buffy? Connor was her boyfriend. We used to hang out all the time. I think you even met him once at one of my art shows,” Dawn said. “Oh, Connor….I….” She broke off, eyes filling with tears.

“Angelboy, I’m Angelboy,” he whispered, looking away. He shuddered. “Believe me now about Night Rain?”

“Yes,” Kate said, casting a cautious look around the room, gauging the horror on her companions’ faces. “So tell us more about the night she and Lian died.”

“Wish I could.” He picked up his food again. “I didn’t see Night Rain, had no clue she wasn’t at school. I didn’t know Lian wasn’t in the house.”

“Isn’t that what a House Nazi does?” Buffy asked, sharply. “Know where your people are?”

He eyed her sourly, taking a dainty bite of the sandwich. “I’m not the Den Mother. I don’t tell them what to do. I keep them safe. I make sure they don’t do anything stupid that’ll get us all arrested.”

“And using heroin isn’t going to get you all arrested?” Buffy asked.

“No, it’ll get me arrested.” Angelboy tapped his chest. “I never have more weight than the police consider for personal use. I don’t have sell weight at the house. I’m not a dealer. If I had been home, I would have known Lian wasn’t there but I wasn’t home that night.”

“Do you remember where you were?” Kate asked.

“I was at the East Hills Teen Center. I know Anne. She runs the place.”

“We know Anne, too,” Gunn said.

Angelboy raised an eyebrow. “Small world. Travis, one of the kids who holed up with me, is at her shelter. He’s one of those who has potential to get out of this life. Some kids you know are lost causes, but others can be helped. Travis is one of those, and I take that kind to Anne. Wish I could get Tin Man to leave me and stay with Anne and Travis. Anyhow, Travis was panicking and wanted to leave the shelter because he thought he saw his dad in the area. He’s the reason Travis ran away. I didn’t want Travis taking off and screwing himself up. I was there so late because Travis was afraid to let me leave that I crashed there for a few hours then went home.”

“And what if his father had showed up?” Buffy asked, curiously.

“I might not look like much but I’m good in a fight.” Angelboy’s eyes went to blue diamonds, his jaw firm. “If his dad wanted to have a go, he’d do it with me.”

“So, if we call Anne, she’ll verify this?” Kate asked.

Angelboy waved a hand at the phone. “Call her now.”

“Later,” Kate said, and Angel figured she took his willingness as a sign Connor was telling the truth.

“You do think I had something to do with the deaths,” he said, and Angel didn’t want to think about that possibility. His son didn’t look worried.

“You have one assault charge on your record,” Kate replied, and Angel barely kept his surprise under control.

 

Angelboy’s face darkened. “I beat up some skeezy pigs who ran a child brothel. They’re the ones who brought Lian into this country in the first place. She got away. They captured her again. I made them sorry they did. And the charges were dropped.” His chin lifted defiantly.

“The police were much more interested in the prostitution ring. You stumbled into a large Jasmine trade,” Kate said, and then turned to the others, “that’s what they call the practice of bringing Chinese girls into this country to work the brothels.”

“Lucky for me.” Angelboy snorted. “I didn’t kill the girls. I don’t think anything human could have done what happened to them.”

“And how would you know what was done?” Kate asked, a sly grin on her face.

Angelboy’s lips twisted up sardonically. “Walked right into that. Brain dead. I could be an example for those ‘don’t do drugs’ commercials. I could have heard it in the streets, you know.”

 

“One of the detectives I spoke to said they thought that you were the 911 caller,” Kate said.

“So what if I am?” Connor looked defiant, and Angel felt a twinge of joy at the concern Connor showed for his fellow humans. “Couldn’t just leave them there rotting for days.”

 

“No, it’s a good thing you did but I’m curious, what do you think killed them if it wasn’t a human?” Kate prompted.

Angelboy shook his head. “What I think doesn’t mean anything. It’s crazy stuff, the crap I got enslaved to heroin for in the first place. Looked like an animal tore them apart, gnawed on them, an animal who left paw and human prints. Like a werewolf but that’s nonsense.”

“Not too likely,” Kate said, tossing a glance Angel’s way.

“I didn’t hear anything about what happened at the rave, which is weird,” Angelboy said, scratching his dirty nails in his scraggly beard. “There had to be a hundred kids there, or more. I should have heard something but I haven’t. I don’t really have a lot I can tell you that is useful. I wish I did.”

“Think you might hear something?” Kate asked.

Angelboy got up and ranged along the walls, looking at the pictures hung there. “If I’m not careful, if they think I’m working with you, I’m done out there. They won’t trust me. I won’t be able to help anyone.”

“I think you’re crafty enough not to get caught at it,” Kate said, as Angelboy fixed on a picture.

He shrugged non-committedly. “Maybe.” 

“Guess I can’t ask for more.”

“Sure you could. You could harass me into anything you wanted, cut me off from my supply, have cops crawling all over my life. It would get you what you wanted or ruin me just the same even if I don’t give in,” Angelboy said. “Then again, I might not be worth the effort, and it is a big city. I could hide. I’m very good at it. But, if I hear anything, I’ll find a way to get it to you because I want who did this to be punished.” Angelboy pointed a finger at a picture. “These are all very good. I like this one. I know it’s a cemetery but it’s beautiful and the girls superimposed like ghosts, very haunting. I have dreams like this, too, scary stuff like most of my dreams.”

Angel flinched at that, and Buffy noticed. She gave him a curious look, and he couldn’t meet her gaze. He hadn’t ended his son’s nightmares, only taken away Connor’s ability to understand and deal with them. He had ruined his child.

“It’s Highgate Cemetery,” Dawn said. “I did all the pictures in Angel’s office.”

Angelboy’s eyes raked over her. “You’re good. You always were.”

“Thanks,” Dawn said.

“I hope you’re still doing shows.” Angelboy’s eyes stayed glued to Dawn and she frowned. He mirrored it. “Guess that’s a no. So you ended up here because art’s a little unreliable to survive on?”

“Something like that.” Dawn went over to him, maintaining a safe distance for her nose’s sake. “I did work with the homeless in New York. I’m not sure you knew that. I know how distrustful of the police they can be. That’s why I volunteered for this investigation. I can go with you on the pretense of taking pictures for a project on street kids. You could pass on any information to me without them getting suspicious.”

Neither Angel nor Buffy had guessed that was Dawn’s intent. It was a good idea but he could see Buffy was furious. She still saw Dawn as fifteen, instead of a mature woman of nearly thirty. Dawn could handle herself.

Angelboy nodded. “That might work and some of them might even pose for you. There’re peacocks out there.”

“I’ll come with you today. I have my camera. And you and I can decide a place to meet on a regular basis,” Dawn said.

“Okay.” Angelboy went back to his seat and put his sandwich in the donut box.

“I’m coming with you. I could be Dawn’s partner,” Buffy said.

“No,” Angelboy said quickly.

Buffy’s eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. “What?”

Connor went over to her, every bit as bristly as she was. “I said no. You look like a cop. You’re all hard with sharp edges. They’ll take one look at you and run.”

“It could be dangerous for Dawn to do this alone,” Buffy argued. Angel could see that had offended her.

“She’s an investigator, right? She can’t walk the streets of LA alone?” Angelboy asked. “If you show, it’ll screw up everything. If you have to send someone, send him.” He pointed at Gunn. “But it would be better if Dawn was alone.”

“Why doesn’t Gunn come with me this time, just until I get my bearings in the area,” Dawn suggested, expertly alleviating Buffy’s concerns and getting her way.

“Okay.” Angelboy nodded, but Buffy still looked unhappy even as she agreed to it. “Can I go now? I’ve told you all I know.”

“I’m done for now,” Kate said. “Angel?”

Angel couldn’t find his voice for a moment. Part of him wanted to prolong this so he could spend time with his son and the other part wanted it to be over with, for the agony to end. “I have no more questions. You can stay and finish your sandwich, though. You don’t have to rush,” Angel said. “If you want, you can take the rest of the sandwiches with you, share with your friends.”

Angelboy smiled. “Thanks, man. That’s nice. I’m kinda full now. I had that donut. I don’t eat much.”

“Yeah, we figured that,” Buffy said. “But are you sure you don’t want some more fruit? You seemed to like that.”

“If it’s okay.”

“Help yourself,” Angel said.

Angelboy did just that, and then curled back up on his chair. He looked so young still to Angel except for his eyes. They were horribly old. “You think you can really find who or what killed Lian and Night Rain?”

“We hope so,” Angel said. “We’re certainly going to do our best. We’re good at this, as are Kate and her detectives.”

Angelboy popped a strawberry into his mouth. “I know I said it before but what’s really strange is that no one’s heard anything about what happened, not even rumors that sound reasonable. It would be impossible to miss the sounds of people being ripped apart. No one’s even talking about the rave being broken up or anything unusual happening at all. All I can think is that either the girls were stragglers and got picked off at the end of the night or someone subdued them, held them captive out of sight until everyone was gone which would have been in the early hours right before dawn.”

“I’m thinking along those lines myself,” Kate said. “There’s some merit to that, if you know what I mean.”

“I know you can’t tell me about what the medical examiner said but I’m sure you know a lot about the time and method of death, and I’m betting I’m close with my guess,” Angelboy said and the others looked surprised that he’d know anything about medical examiners. Angel realized the kind of law Connor must have wanted to practice would have made him familiar with police practices.

“I’m curious,” Angel said. “How did you find the girls so quickly, only hours after they died, when you didn’t know Amaya was in the area or your friend was gone?”

“And here you didn’t have any more questions for me.” Angelboy’s lips twisted in a wry grin. Angel had almost forgotten Connor’s propensity for being a smart mouth. “Misty and Darts told me. They live with me. They probably wanted to sneak Lian back in before I knew she was gone, as if I’d actually get angry, so they were out looking for her. Two Two told them he’d seen Lian and Night Rain at the rave. They went to the church and found them, then they got me.”

“Where would I find Misty, Darts and Two Two?” Kate asked.

“I won’t take you to the girls but Two Two’s a Crip. You cops should have a good idea how to find him. Wouldn’t mind if you carted him away,” Angelboy replied, lipping a piece of kiwi.

“He a pusher, too?” Kate asked.

Angelboy nodded, powering through more of the fruit. “Yeah, and a pimp but I doubt he had anything to do with killing them. He’s more likely to just shoot you.”

“Think Amaya or Lian would have bought from Two Two?” Kate asked, her eyes never leaving his face.

“Neither girl used,” Angelboy said, and then stared at Kate, studying her expression. “I’m wrong about that, aren’t I?”

“No one said that.” Kate kept her face emotionless.

“Yeah, right.” Angelboy got up, seeming instantly depressed, and pulled on his duster. “Can I go now?”

“Of course,” Kate said.

“Here, let me help you pack up the sandwich,” Dawn said.

Angel watched them go. He wanted to grab his son and make him stay. Angel wanted to tell Connor the truth, to try to make it better, to beg for forgiveness. He knew there was no point in any of it. Connor would only think he was nuts. He had no reason to believe him so Angel just let the ruined shell of his son walkout the door. Ignoring Buffy and Willow’s questioning looks, Angel stormed off down the hall, picturing everything he was going to do when he caught up to Lilah. In the past she had wanted him to go dark. He fully intended to show her what that entailed.


	4. Secrets

CHAPTER FOUR

_I’ve never been someone who knows_  
My choices haunt me everywhere I go  
Finally did something right for myself  
 **Raw - Staind**

Lilah had the sense to cancel her afternoon meeting and disappear so Angel had gone immediately underground to return home to take out his frustrations on his hapless equipment. He had even gone looking for trouble in the sewers but it was like Lilah had sent out a warning and the sewer was totally deserted.

Angel’s knuckles spattered blood, making smears on what was left of his punching bag. He didn’t stop his brutal attack even when he heard footsteps coming down the steps to the Hyperion’s basement. Buffy knew better than to come up behind him. She’d wait until he was done; only he didn’t know when that would be. 

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He managed to keep from growling. He caught the ruined punching bag with his abraded hands.

“Oh, I wish you could see your face in the mirror, liar, liar,” Buffy said, walking all the way down the stairs. “I can’t remember seeing you this angry in a long time.”

Angel ran a bloodied hand over his forehead, feeling the ridges he hadn’t even realized had popped out. He flicked his tongue over his fangs, and then slid back into his human face. “Sorry.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Buffy came over and took his torn hands. “It has something to do with that junkie, doesn’t it? You looked like you saw a ghost.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s just seeing all that potential thrown away for nothing. He thinks he’s insane, and the truth is, he really saw vampires.”

“I thought he was describing Dru’s little attack on Wolfram and Hart five years ago,” Buffy said, her eyes wide and dark with pity.

“But how can you tell him that? ‘Oh, by the way there are vampires and demons. Look, I’m one so now let’s get you to rehab’.” The growl couldn’t be contained this time.

“It is horrible but he chose to throw his life away, Angel. He could have gotten professional help. Instead, he got hooked on heroin,” Buffy said a little less than sympathetic.

Angel turned from her. “It’s not as easy as that, Buffy. Can you imagine what would happen if you went to a psychiatrist talking about vampires?”

“I don’t have to imagine.” Buffy shuddered, her voice pained.

“So what’s worse? A miserable life inside a mental hospital or a miserable one free to do what you want under the influence of narcotics?” Angel asked bitterly.

“I’m sure there’s middle ground,” Buffy replied.

“I know,” he whispered, hanging his head.

“He really got to you though. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’d rather not talk about it, Buffy,” he said.

Buffy almost protested. Instead she wrapped her arms around him. “It’s hard to see someone hit such a low. Willow said those were rat bites on his back,” she said, a little too disturbed herself to let it go.

“Buffy.” He tried to warn her off.

“I know, you don’t want to talk about it. I don’t blame you. I also know that Angelboy isn’t the only thing bothering you, and I know I can’t make you talk if you don’t want to.”

Angel pulled her tight against him and kissed the top of her head. “I hate keeping secrets from you, Buffy, and I know I’m very good at it.”

Buffy reached up and ran a hand along his broad cheek. “I know when you’re ready, you’ll tell me.”

Angel kissed her again. “Thank you. I don’t know why you put up with me.”

“It’s a great mystery.” Buffy smiled.

“Some mysteries are good,” Angel moved in for another kiss.

Buffy went with those kisses, feeling the desperate edge to them. She sensed the pain thrumming through Angel and wished she knew how to make it better, even if she didn’t fully understand it.

“I need you to hold me,” he whispered.

Buffy squeezed him tightly, fluttering kisses over his lips, chin, neck and bare shoulders, tasting the salt of his sweat. Angel let her back him up until the cool bars of Angelus’ cage touched his skin. He had kept the cage as a reminder of what he’d become and could become again. In truth it was also a good place to hold dangerous creatures if need be. Right now it held a few mats for when Xander, Dawn, Willow, Gunn and Fred worked out. Angel nodded his head toward its opening.

Buffy took a step back. “Don’t even think it,” she said sternly and watched him pout exaggeratedly. “But I will race you to the penthouse.”

Buffy took off, Angel hot on her heels. She darted into the elevator with a squeal. He yanked shut the elevator door, a relic from a long time ago in the hotel’s heyday. Angel pinned her against the wall as the elevator creaked upward. He lifted her up and Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist. He played with the buttons on her blouse, using teeth and tongue. She lifted his chin.

“Wait until we’re in our suite. Remember Joshua?”

Angel could hardly forget Joshua and his penchant for roaming the hotel, always curious about what “Uncle Angel” was up to. Gunn had taught the boy to be fairly sneaky, too. Getting caught making out in the elevator by one of the adults was one thing, but neither wanted caught be a seven year old.

Angel resumed the hunt once they were safely in their penthouse suit. Buffy made him chase her around the living room, and then paused by the hot tub in the far end of the floor-spanning suite, relegated there to cut down on the chemical smells. She decided against a little wet loving and raced to the bedroom. She knew Angel needed closeness, needed to be held more than he needed sex. 

She jumped him before he could catch her. They tumbled onto their specially reinforced king-sized bed, Buffy wishing she could do more to ease his pain.

X X X

Buffy snuggled against Angel’s chest, the sheets with pink peonies that he hated covering them. The bedroom was Buffy’s realm done to her tastes. It was achingly feminine. The bedspread and curtains were patterned with purple wisteria that he felt clashed with the ornate rococo headboard; lots of candles, lace runners on the occasional tables and dressers. He had always though the feminine touches in her home back in Sunnydale had been Joyce’s doing but her daughter inherited some of that.

Angel tightened his arm around her, looking out the window at the setting sun. He wished he had known glass could be necro-tempered years ago and wished even more Wolfram and Hart hadn’t been the ones to tell him about it because it made him feel grateful to them. He didn’t want to feel that.

The sun couldn’t warm him, at least not inside, but he liked being able to see Buffy in the bright light. He remembered the pain in her face so long ago when he told her one of the reasons he was jealous of Xander was because he could see her in daylight. 

He remembered the look in her eyes when she first saw him in his office highlighted by a sunbeam. They had been dancing around the idea of having sex and it being safe for him given his frame of mind. It was the sun pouring through that mystical glass that tipped the scales. The desk top in his ridiculously pristine Wolfram and Hart office, a gift for giving away his child, hadn’t been romantic or what he would have chosen for his and Buffy’s second time but they had both been enamored by the sun. There had been plenty of romantic times since and times just like tonight, less about the sex and more about the closeness.

“Ready to tell me what’s really eating at you?” she asked, playing with the few stray hairs between his nipples that made a mockery of chest hair.

“I already have.”

Buffy plucked out one of the hairs, and he winced. “No, you didn’t. You’re not going to. We should get dressed and see if my sister and Gunn actually made it back from the bowels of the city.” She rolled out of bed, heading for the bathroom. “I can’t believe Dawn maneuvered herself into a position to go tagging along after a junkie.”

“Dawn’s a big girl. She can handle herself,” Angel said. He heard her grunt at him and the shower started. Rolling his eyes, he dragged out of bed and joined her.

The shower was quick. Buffy was out practically before he got in. He cleaned in a flurry of motion and came back out. He dressed in new clothes as did she, as if their clothing had been infected by the sour smells wafting off Connor’s long unwashed body, which had permeated his office. Buffy wasn’t looking at him as they dressed.

“Why are you mad at me?” he asked, knowing that, that alone was enough to get him into a deeper pile of crap. He knew he was supposed to know why he was in trouble.

She fluffed up her hair. “I’m not mad.”

“Try that on someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do. You’re mad because I said Dawn can handle herself.”

“Well, if you knew, why did you ask?” Buffy snapped, and he scowled. She flopped back on the bed. “She’s my kid sister.”

Angel crossed his arms. “She’s a Watcher and a very capable woman who’s gone up against a lot scarier things than a junkie.”

“True but a junkie with a gun can be as deadly as a demon,” Buffy said, sitting back up. 

“Can’t argue that,” Angel replied.

Buffy bounced on the bed once, and then got up. “I know what you’re saying. I know I keep seeing Dawn as a child. I _know_ she’s not. I know she can take care of herself. I try very hard not to stand in her way.”

“But it is hard,” he said, sliding his arm around her.

“It really is. Okay, let’s go see if Dawn and Gunn are back and how Giles is doing on the research into the shape shifter,” Buffy said, heading for the elevator.

“That’s a good idea,” Angel said, glad that this storm passed quickly. He didn’t like it when Buffy got sulky over little things. 

Dawn and Gunn weren’t back but Giles was in the series of bedrooms that had been converted into a library. The books on the table were so high that they could barely see him. Buffy liked the library. Giles had stamped it with his personality. The warm woods and leather chairs seemed fatherly and comforting.

“How’s it going, Giles?” Buffy asked, miffed she couldn’t perch on the table like she was wont to do.

“Right now, it’s the proverbial needle in the haystack,” Giles replied, shoving up his glasses. “I’ve ruled out werewolves for the time being. Willow is trying to track down Oz for his input on whether or not he knows of any werewolves able to control the change. We don’t even know if Oz can truly control his or if that was a one-time stress induced event.”

“So what do we have?” Angel asked. 

Giles closed one of the huge tomes he had been perusing. “Just off the cuff, werejaguars, werepanthers, werehares.”

“Werehares?” Buffy bleated. “You’re kidding?” Giles gave her ‘the look.’ “Okay I know you’re not. People can turn into bunnies? Wonder if that’s why Anya was so paranoid about them.”

“I think it’s safe to say a rabbit didn’t kill Amaya and the others,” Angel said.

“I would say not. Other candidates are far more likely such as an Anjing Ajak, a sort of Indonesian cannibal werewolf; a Lobison, a south American shapeshifter that takes on the forms of dogs or boars; the Russian Upir which is a lycanthrope-vampire cross kind of creature.”

“Nothing like not being able to decide,” Buffy muttered.

Giles looked at her over his glasses at the interruption. She raised her hands in defeat. “And there are many others. I haven’t even begun to touch on Mezoamerican sources which, given our proximity to Mexico, might be a good idea. However, the research I’m doing now doesn’t change the fact that we currently know very little about this creature. I’m not sure we can narrow the list down from one inconclusive picture and the information Willow got from the autopsies.”

“Taking the hearts didn’t mean anything special?” Buffy asked.

“Not necessarily. Many wild animals like to eat the hearts. It’s a good muscle but it could mean something,” Giles conceded. “Willow’s doing a records search on the other five murders. Kate called to say that now that these deaths have been linked, she’s in charge of the task force. She’ll try to find some other pictorial evidence she can smuggle out for us to see.”

“I guess it’s a start.” Buffy threw herself into a high-backed, chocolate-brown leather chair she would have suspected came from the original Council complex if it hadn’t blown up. They had an English den sort of feel to them. She eyed the mini-bar on a gift she, Willow, Dawn and Xander had gone in on for Giles; a table island with _trompe l’oeil_ books around it. The island slid apart leaving the table with two cushioned barrel chairs. Giles adored it. “Is it too early for a drink?”

“Keep your hands off my scotch,” Giles said, his blue eyes twinkling.

“I’m plenty old enough to drink.” Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Oooo, I hate hearing that.”

Both men laughed and Giles said, “You don’t even like Scotch. That Glenfidditch is for Angel and I.”

“Fine.” Buffy tossed her head back against the chair. “It’s just so hard to think that I was completely blind to Amaya’s dark side.”

“Buffy, you can’t torture yourself up over this.” Giles cleared a path in his books so he could see her more clearly.

“So I’ve been telling her,” Angel said, going to stand behind her chair.

Giles nodded. “Your main interaction with the girls is to train them. How much about their private lives do you know?”

“That’s my point. I should know,” Buffy argued.

“Why?” Giles asked, and Buffy looked at him curiously. “How much of your personal life did you confide in me when I was training you back in high school?”

Buffy rubbed her neck, wincing as she hit a sore spot. “That’s different. You’re a man. I didn’t want to hang around talking to you about that stuff.” A faint blush colored her pale cheeks.

“And I was relieved. It’s hard enough being a man watching over a young girl who’s not your kin. I’m lucky no one ever accused me of sexual improprieties for all the time I spent with you, Willow and even Xander,” Giles said. “Think of it this way, who knew more about your love life, your mother or Willow and Xander?”

“I get it.” Buffy grimaced. “You’re saying that the girls might know more about Amaya’s personal life. We spoke to them but they said they didn’t know anything.”

“Probably not telling the truth,” Angel said, massaging Buffy’s tight neck and shoulders.

“More than likely not. Perhaps they believe they’re protecting her memory,” Giles said. “And sooner or later, they’ll tell us because they’ll realize that they’re only making things worse.”

“I’m guessing trying to force them to tell me won’t help,” Buffy said, leaning into Angel’s strong hands.

“No, this is one of the reasons the Watchers had strict policies against Potentials and Slayers having social lives,” Giles said.

“But you didn’t try that with me,” Buffy said.

Giles rocked back in his chair, looking at her for a moment, and then got up to fetch the scotch. “Maybe you’re right about this being needed. Would you like a jigger, Buffy?”

“No.”

Giles poured out two rocks glasses of the amber liquid and handed one to Angel. Buffy snagged it and tasted a bit before giving it back to Angel.

“Why is it women tell you they don’t want any and immediately take their men’s portion?” Giles sat back down.

“That’s usually not a problem for me,” Angel said, smirking. Buffy swatted at him playfully.

“Wonder why,” Giles replied dryly.

“It tastes better that way,” Buffy said. “Normally. That stuff’s still nasty.”

Giles shot her a pitying look. “Since you asked, the reason I didn’t infringe much on your love life, even when it got in the way, was I could just imagine how you would have reacted. I did warn you it could interfere with your slaying, and even though I was correct in that, I didn’t press the point.”

“Correct?” Buffy snorted.

Giles’ eyebrows shot up. “The boy who nearly got killed at the funeral home, you dating a vampire, said vampire going evil, the super soldier whose unit tried to kill you, Spike.”

“Stop,” Buffy interrupted. “I didn’t know you were keeping score.” She crossed her arms, putting on her best grumpy face.

“Certainly there were times I thought maybe I ought to be stricter, especially when you first started dating Angel, but I was looking at him as a vital source of occult information that was expedient to have around. And to be utterly honest, I don’t agree with the Council’s stance on complete celibacy for the Slayers. You saw the effect on Kendra. She couldn’t even handle Xander who’s mostly innocuous. It hampers them in a normal social environment which, like it or not, they must spend time in. And personally I think it’s unnatural. We’re all sexual creatures and denying that is dangerous,” Giles said.

“Okay, no offense, I don’t want to be thinking about you as a sexual creature, especially now that Lorelei’s back in the States.” Buffy shuddered, grinning at her Watcher.

He eyed her sourly. “Trust me, Lorelei and I are just as happy you aren’t curious about our sex life.”

She wagged a finger at him. “What did I just say?”

“Is Lorelei still working with the girls?” Angel broke in.

“Yes, she has her work cut out for her. Most of them are too young to have lost a sister Slayer yet,” Giles said. He had met Lorelei when he had moved back to Bath after Buffy’s death and before her subsequent resurrection they had gotten close. He was lucky in that the psychiatrist worked for the Council, treating all the on-the-job psychosis that Watchers were prone to. She understood that he had to return to the States when Buffy was brought back to life. 

After the Hellmouth had been destroyed, Lorelei had met up with them in Europe to treat the post-traumatic stress they were all suffering, especially Xander. Lorelei had studied under the great mage Rhiannon Maddox, and she augmented her medicine with magic. When Giles came to the States, she had followed him, with occasional jaunts back to England to see her twins who were still attending a very old University that trained Watchers, the one they had based Brisbane Academy on. “She might learn more about Amaya’s past from them.”

“And be bound by ethics not to tell us,” Angel pointed out.

“Yes, that is the unfortunate thing about doctor-patient confidentiality, it does get in the way from time to time,” Giles admitted. “But what I do know, Buffy, is that this isn’t any of our faults. Amaya was old enough to make her own choices, and I am very sorry, of course, that it cost Amaya her life. Still, she was the one who chose to have relations with a street junkie, to take drugs herself and wishing that we had known she was in this much trouble doesn’t do anything but demoralize us.”

“I know but I wish it was as easy as it sounds not to blame ourselves,” Buffy replied as Dawn and Gunn came in. Buffy jumped out of her chair and stalked over to Dawn. She started to say something, thought better of it and asked, “How did it go?”

“I need a bath, a three hour bath,” Dawn said, tugging at her shirt which bore a few mystery stains it hadn’t when she put it on in the morning.

“Don’t hog up all the water, I’ll need some,” Gunn grumbled.

“After we talked to him, we tried to follow Angelboy back to his squat to see if we could find Darts and Misty,” Dawn said.

“But he was too wily for that. Damn if that kid ain’t fast,” Gunn said. “And I could have done without the reminder I used to be in a street gang. I lived a little better than that while we were out doing the vampire hunting thing, but not much.” Distress gleamed in his dark eyes. Dawn and Buffy offered sad, supportive looks.

“I’ve set up a place to meet Angelboy on a regular basis,” Dawn said. “Don’t worry Buffy, it’s in a public place so it should be safe enough. God, I can’t believe what’s become of Connor. He was just the sweetest smartest guy I knew back in NYC, a real gentleman. If Haven wasn’t with him, I would have snatched him right up.”

Buffy eyed her. “Really? I don’t…well I guess I wouldn’t see it now, would I?”

Dawn shook her head. “No, I mean I didn’t even recognize him. There’s so little left of Connor in Angelboy but he was pleasant enough to me. I’m sure he’s embarrassed that I did finally remember him. I just can’t believe it! Though, now that I think about it, he always did seem jumpy, like he was seeing things the rest of us weren’t. He slept like crap. I remember that when we’d all travel somewhere together, like to steampunk conventions or to art shows. I guess I was seeing the wheels coming off for him and didn’t recognize the signs.” She sighed, running her hand through her long hair. “He did tell us something that might be important. You and I might want to talk to the girls about it. He said Amaya had come to see him the day before she died, and she seemed depressed.”

“And more violent than usual,” Gunn added.

Dawn nodded. “I got the impression she hurt him more than he was bargaining for when he let her tie him up.”

“He didn’t give details, did he?” Buffy grimaced at the mental image, and Dawn shook her head.

Angel had been wondering about that. He knew how fast his son healed. Amaya had to have really put her Slayer strength into the whip play to have left lasting bruises on Connor. What did that disregard for life mean besides nothing good? “Did he have any idea what was upsetting her?”

“No, unfortunately. Even though we couldn’t follow him back, I think we did get to see either Darts or Misty though,” Dawn said. 

“Oh?” Giles looked expectantly at her.

“A really white girl found him while we were talking to him,” Gunn said, rubbing a hand over his shaved head.

“Hair like Spike’s,” Dawn added. 

“Angelboy turned over the food to her, so she’s definitely one of his but he didn’t call her by name and made sure she didn’t say any either, though I doubt she would have. She didn’t trust us. You could see it in her eyes,” Gunn said.

“Of course, Angelboy might not have been heading for home when he left us,” Dawn said. “She wanted to tell him someone called Golden had been arrested. I thought it was one of his kids but Gunn figured it was more likely Angelboy’s source.”

“Trust me, the way he went off, his drug supply just went up in a cloud of smoke,” Gunn said. “We should have followed the girl home. That was a bad call. I’m sure Angelboy went off to either find out what happened to his supplier or to look for a new one.”

“And that’s about all we learned,” Dawn said, spreading her hands apologetically.

“Still, knowing something was bothering Amaya is important,” Angel said, trying to put his best encouraging face on even though he didn’t feel the least bit encouraged.

“Go take your baths,” Buffy said. “It’s too late to talk to the girls tonight. Kate’s coming over with information from the other crime scenes. It might be a good idea to ask Angelboy if he knows anything about those victims, too, next time you see him.”

“I will,” Dawn said, looking relieved Buffy wasn’t mad any longer.

“A quick shower, then I’m spending some time with my son,” Gunn said. “Being out there, looking at the empty eyes of those street kids, I don’t want Joshua to think I’m not there for him. I don’t want my boy to end up like that.”

Angel shut his eyes, the pain at seeing Connor blossoming forth again, as fresh and horrible as the first moment he saw his son in Lilah’s office. There had to be a way to fix this and he was going to find it.

X X X

“Why were you talking to those people?” Misty asked, helping herself to the remainder of the sandwich Angelboy had given her. Darts had the last donut.

Angelboy looked at her. He had invited her and Darts into his room since they had questions that he didn’t want the whole house hearing. He took the last sandwich bit, feeling content that he had assured himself his secondary supplier was still in business. The problem was Sweet 1 would want money, not trade like Golden did. He wasn’t interested in the specialized services Angelboy offered his tricks and that meant there’d be less money for feeding his kids. Still, he was a good thief. They’d make do. “The girl’s a photographer and the guy’s her assistant. They want to do an exposé on street kids.”

“Why?” Darts asked, wiping jelly donut innards from her chin. 

“Street kids are a big juicy topic to pretend to be interested in, wins you prizes,” Angelboy replied with a shrug.

“What about Lian?” Misty asked. “Have you heard anything more about how she got dead?”

Angelboy shook his head. “You keep an ear out and tell me. There’re people looking into this.”

“Cops,” Misty snorted. “Like they care.”

“Cops and private investigators. No one might care about Lian but they do about Night Rain,” Angelboy replied. “These investigators seem sincere. I spoke to them.”

“Are you nuts?” Darts asked, grabbing his arm. He nearly dropped his sandwich.

He jerked away irritably. “No. I want some justice for Lian, and I think they do, too. I just don’t know anything important to tell them.”

“How about telling them their precious rich bitch liked dirty boys,” Misty said viciously.

Angelboy eyed her sourly. “I have.”

“Are you going to tell them about Night Rain’s diary, that stupid secret one she was always going on about?” Darts asked, and then in a good approximation of Night Rain’s voice added, “Oh, if only they knew about this diary at school, they’d kick me out.”

“No, I didn’t. I’m not sure yet if I should.” Angelboy got up. “I’m going out. I’ve something I have to look into.”

“Sounds dull,” Misty said, stretching out on the rotted couch.

“It is.”

Satisfied neither girl would want to follow him, Angelboy headed for the library. Angelboy didn’t want his girls tagging along. If they thought he was smarter and more able than he was, they might being to mistrust him. Those were signs of impending adulthood and responsibility that they didn’t want to think about. 

The library wouldn’t close for another few hours. He knew the librarians didn’t want his kind in the place but as long as he behaved himself, they couldn’t throw him out. Libraries were popular with the homeless as places to go in and get warm. They were quiet, usually half deserted and they offered shelter from the weather.

He found a bank of computers inside the library and started his research. One thing he learned in law school was how to search public records. He set out to learn as much as he could about Kate. It would be easier if he knew her last name but reasoned there probably wasn’t a lot of Kates on the LAPD’s force. He’d move on to Angel Investigations next. He already knew more about Wolfram and Hart than was healthy. He researched them when they had offered him a job. 

He knew they were worse than most of their clients. They had lured him in with the offers of power and money, and he had been greedy enough at the time to want it, reasoning he could build a reputation, and then go out on his own to practice law his own way. So, if Angel Investigations could work for a company known for their ruthlessness, he had to wonder what type of people Angel and his employees were. Should he trust them? Or should he tell Kate to cut her losses and deal with someone less evil? Or better yet, just try to find the girls’ killer on his own? He should be capable of that. A thorough computer search might help him to decide his best course of action.


	5. Deja Vu

CHAPTER FIVE 

_Black throated wind, whisper in sin,_  
And speaking on life that passes like dew.  
It’s forced me to see you’ve done better by me,  
Better by me that I’ve done by you.   
**Black Throated Wind - The Grateful Dead**

Angelboy stared at the hotel, shivering despite the hot morning sun. He knew the hotel’s insides would have remnants of former glory. He could guess from the style when the hotel was built, and he knew it would have art deco inside unless some fool stripped it out. His former roommate, Chris the architect, had dragged him all over New York City looking at old buildings.

Angelboy allowed himself a small smile at the memories of Chris with his big blond Afro and his crazy ideas. Angelboy remembered Chris deciding Hyde from _That 70’s Show_ was a good role model, and he even looked a little like him when he tried. Both Angelboy and Chris could party by A-student standards, even by dropouts’ really, and Haven, his girlfriend, liked practicing her inkwork on them both. Chris had always been a little jealous that Angelboy dated Haven but more so because she always had the best pot.

Shutting his eyes, Angelboy reminded himself too much of the happy memories was a bad thing. He braced himself to go inside the scary hotel. He wanted to pretend he was standing on the sidewalk shaking because of hunger, or jonesing or anything but fear. Still, it was fear and he knew it. He knew what was inside this hotel even without peeking in a window. He’d seen this place in his nightmares. Often he was just lost inside the building. He was supposed to be at home in the hotel but he wasn’t, and he couldn’t ever escape the walls.

He had gone looking for Angel and his investigators with a full head of steam early in the morning. Days didn’t mean much to him so it came as a surprise when he got to the law firm and found it was Saturday. No one he wanted to see was there, or so the guard told him. He could have been lying. Angelboy didn’t put it past him. Still furious about what his computer search had turned up, he went to the hotel having found it listed in conjunction not only with the law firm but also with Night Rain’s school.

All his grand plans of making a big, self-righteous entrance petered out the moment the hotel came into view. He had spent at least ten minutes just staring at it, not believing its reality. Of course, maybe it wasn’t real. He could be having a psychotic episode. Heaven knew the last few days had been stressful enough. He learned Angel Investigations had a tie-in with a historic hotel and his mind was making it into the hotel from his delusions. Either way, he wasn’t going to accomplish anything unless he went inside.

‘ _Screw your courage to the sticking place_.’ Angelboy headed in, thinking Shakespeare always did sound pretentious. The big lobby doors were open so he swept in and nearly collided with the pretty brunette from Angel’s office. Cordelia, if he remembered the name right from last night’s computer search. He had a thing for brunettes, always had. This one was chasing a reedy boy with light brown skin. The sight of a kid took Angelboy by surprise.

Both the woman and the kid stopped, staring at Angelboy. The kid took a few steps back, looking ready to bolt up the staircase. Ignoring them, Angelboy couldn’t stop himself. He had to look around. Yes, there were those art deco light fixtures. He’d lay odds if he went into the basement he’d find a cage. He spent a lot of time in that cage inside his dreams.

“Oh, are you here to see Angel?” the woman asked, shooing the boy up the stairs. She put herself between him and the boy.

Angelboy nodded, his long hair brushing his shoulders. “Yes.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Does he know you’re coming?”

“Probably not.”

She considered that. Angelboy could almost see the wheels turning. She paused to stomp her foot at the boy who dawdled on the stairs, and then turned back to him. “He’s in the library with Buffy, Giles, Dawn and Willow. It’s this way. Follow me.” She gave him a longer, critical look. “Don’t touch anything.”

Angelboy rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to touch her. She led him into the library, giving the group there an apologetic look. Angel got up from the table, and Angelboy had planned on going up to him and telling him where he could stick it but the library mesmerized him. He liked the feel of it. It reminded him of the law library in Wolfram and Hart’s New York branch where he had interned.

“This shouldn’t be here,” he muttered.

“What?” Dawn asked.

“This library...it wasn’t here.” Angelboy shuddered. “Never mind. Just talking junk.”

“Sounds like you think you know this place.”

Angelboy looked at the older man who had spoken. He didn’t know him but assumed it had to be Giles, though the picture on the internet was of a slightly younger man, a few less wrinkles and a tad more hair. “I’ve never been here before. Don’t want to be here now but I have no choice,” he said, finding that well of anger that drove him to seek Angel out.

“Guess you have something on your mind if you’re here before your meeting time with Dawn,” Buffy said, getting up and walking over to him.

He ignored her and stalked up to Angel. “You lied to me.”

“I thought we established why he did that yesterday,” Buffy said, immediately defensive.

Angelboy looked over his shoulder at her. “Not about this we didn’t. As if lying to me about  
bringing a cop into it, you lied to me about nearly everything else, too. None of these three ladies are your investigators.” He stabbed a finger back at Dawn, Buffy and Willow. “They teach at Night Rain’s school. How could you lie to me, Dawn? Now is anyone here going to start telling me the truth, or do I just go home and leave you to fumble around in the dark?”

“How’d you even find out about that?” Buffy asked.

Angelboy whirled to face her. “I keep telling you, I might be nuts and high but I’m not stupid.”

“You did a records search,” Willow said, and he nodded.

Angel fanned his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry. The truth was so complicated that we weren’t sure if we got into it that you’d trust us. Why would teachers at a school be acting like detectives, after all?”

Angelboy scowled, not backing out of Angel’s space. “The thought crossed my mind.”

“It’s a very special school,” Willow said.

“So Night Rain was fond of telling me,” Angelboy replied. “So you lied to me but you want me to do your dirty work. How do I know you’re not trying to play me for some reason?”

“Why would we? What would we get? Believe me, mind games with street junkies is low on the list of things we want to do,” Buffy said, ignoring the warning looks Angel and Giles were shooting her.

“Just one notch up from having to fumigate the library after they leave,” Cordelia said, lighting some of the candles the table.

“Cordelia,” Angel snapped but she didn’t seem to notice. Angelboy cocked his head at the name, staring thoughtfully at her. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Angelboy said softly. “Just something resonates with that name, you know?”

“No, nothing most definitely does not resonate,” Cordelia told him curtly but this time she took notice of Angel’s warning look.

“We’re sorry, um, Angelboy.” Giles hesitated at the street name. “We thought for expedience’s sake it was best to just pretend that we were all part of Angel Investigations. We didn’t mean any malice with the deception. We had just lost one of our girls, and we weren’t thinking as clearly as perhaps we should have.”

Angel saw Giles’s calm voice was doing the work it often did, as well it should. He was experienced in mellowing out Buffy, Dawn, Willow and Xander, which was at times a tall order. 

“Hopefully you can understand that,” Angel said.

“Maybe but I don’t get why a detective agency has anything to do with the school. It looked like you do from what I got from public records,” Angelboy said, his voice still boiling over with indignation.

“Like we said, Brisbane is a special school,” Angel said.

“So are you done yelling now?” Buffy asked, realizing Angelboy was bringing out the uppity in her, and she resented it.

“I didn’t yell. I was going to but I got too weirded out by the hotel,” Angelboy admitted. “And if I did yell, you deserved it.”

“Is this where you tell us you’re not helping us now?” Buffy persisted, trying not to shrug away when Angel put a calming hand on her shoulder.

“I thought about it but I do want to help Lian and Night Rain find justice. That’s really why I’m here. I thought about not telling you this. I didn’t know if I could trust you yesterday. Now I’m sure I can’t. You work for Wolfram and Hart for one thing but I guess that means you have all the resources in the world at your disposal, so maybe you can help find the girls’ killer.”

“You sound a little critical of Wolfram and Hart. You were going to work for them,” Dawn reminded him.

“Never said I was doing it for altruistic reasons. They promised me lots of money and power and a chance to practice some really cutthroat law. I got into this for the challenge.” He smirked. “But at least now, I know I can’t trust any of you. That helps. You know where you stand if you know enough not to trust your companions.”

“You can trust us, Angelboy,” Angel said, hating this side of his son. He knew that smirk, the smugness, and he knew where the boy inherited it from. “We don’t want anything from you other than information that might help find your friends’ killer. We’re not interested in turning you in or doing anything to the other kids you look out for.”

Angelboy slowly nodded, the smirk broadening. “Whatever. I’ll stick with not trusting you. But I will tell you this, Night Rain had a special diary hidden in that precious school of yours, one she didn’t want anyone to know about. Something was bothering her the last night I saw her, the day before she died. Hell, Night Rain was kinda depressed for a while before she died. I don’t know if it had anything to do with her death or not but I thought you might want to know.”

“Thank you,” Angel said. 

“It may not have anything to do with the murders. They’ve now linked Amaya and Lian’s deaths to a string of killings. They were probably just in the wrong place in the wrong time but the other girls who were killed were also teenaged runaways,” Giles said.

“I was going to tell you about it when we met up,” Dawn said. “We were hoping maybe you knew about them, too.”

Angelboy frowned. “The first I’m hearing of it, which is damn weird. Usually news travels fast in my world. Do you still want to know about the diary anyway?” 

“Yes, I think it would be beneficial to have,” Giles said, a gleam of curiosity and love of a mystery in his blue eyes. “Where is it?”

“Can’t tell you but I think I can show you,” Angelboy said.

“Show us?” Buffy’s eyebrows shot up.

“I’ve been to that school a few times. Night Rain snuck me in. I know where she hid the book. I’m not sure I can describe it but if you take me to the school I can find it,” he assured her.

“I can’t believe you’ve been to the school,” Willow said, her lips falling into an unhappy line. “I guess Buffy and I can take you there now.”

“Umm, Will,” Buffy said, giving her a look. She canted her eyes meaningfully at Angelboy. “How are we getting there?”

“Car,” Willow said, brightly, missing Buffy’s reluctance. “Giles can drive.” Giles head snapped up, a perplexed expression on his pale, lined face.

“I’m sure he’ll thank you for throwing him under the bus with the rest of us,” Buffy grumbled, elbowing her friend.

“Guess that’s your way of saying you don’t want to get in a car with me,” Angelboy said, his lip curling.

Buffy turned to him, an uneasy look flashing across her face. “No offense but you... well.”

“Stink,” Cordelia supplied.

“Thank you, Cordy,” Buffy said, crossing her arms. “So, no, I’m not too eager to go cross town with you.”

“It’s hard to find a flop that has hot and cold running water,” Angelboy snapped, his fuzzy cheeks reddening.

“You could use our facilities,” Angel said gently, not knowing how to say it without giving offense. “It is a hotel. It won’t hurt anything if we’re an hour later getting to that diary.”

“We could probably find you some newer clothes, too,” Dawn said. “And maybe you’d like something to eat before we go.”

“You fed me enough yesterday,” Angelboy argued, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve got nothing against getting washed up or clean clothes either. Just don’t mess with the boots or the jacket. It’s hard enough to find stuff that fits me. I don’t care what you do to the clothes, pitch them for all I care.”

“That’s a start,” Cordelia said, tapping her toe.

“Come on, I’ll show you to a room,” Angel said, despairing of Cordelia ever learning tact.

Angelboy followed the detective through the hotel. He had the strongest case of déjà vu as he did so, like he had been with this man many times before. He left the door to the room unlocked so they could bring the new clothes but took his jacket and boots into the bathroom. It wasn’t an issue of trust. He had his needles in his jacket and a little heroin hidden in a boot. He didn’t know if the boy he saw had free rein of the hotel but the last thing he wanted was for the kid to find his drugs.

He got into the shower, the water as hot as he could stand. It was surreal, like he had gone into a Dali painting. He knew this hotel. He didn’t feel safe and yet here he was, naked and soapy and didn’t really feel an urge to run. What he felt was humiliated. Angelboy knew he was dirty and infested with lice. He hated it. He remembered being happy and well and clean but it seemed so remote from him until times like this. These people wanted normal and clean and anything but someone distasteful like he was. It was degrading to be asked to shower before they’d get in a car with him.

He couldn’t blame them, though. Angelboy knew he reeked. He wondered which of them would volunteer to give him clothing. He got his answer when he went back out in the bedroom and saw the little T-shirt and jeans. They had to belong to one of the ladies. None of the men were small enough for him to fit into their clothing without it being a tent. Angelboy sat on the bed to put on his boots. The mattress felt so comfortable. He wanted to stretch out and sleep for days. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a real bed.

Angelboy sat for a moment, enjoying the feel of being clean, having pants that weren’t hard and crusty, of wearing a shirt that didn’t send up a reek every time he moved. He could have gone for some underpants but it was true; beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Forcing himself up, Angelboy headed down the hall, carrying his jacket. It was far too hot for it. The only reason he wore it was it carried most everything he owned. He paused by a doorway, laying a hand on the old wood. He knew this room. It might look like every other one but he knew this was his room. The brass number was the one from his dreams. He tried to open it but it was locked. Saddened and afraid, he tore himself away from it and trundled downstairs and into the common room. More people had shown up. Gunn was with a skinny white woman, Winifred. She had been the one with the boy earlier. He had seen her name and picture on Wolfram and Hart’s website, too. The young boy was back, sitting on the couch in front of the TV with a dark-haired man with brown eyes playing the latest Playstation incarnation. Looking almost too excited to be sitting on the couch, the boy bopped in time with the action figure on the screen.

“Angel said you were here,” Gunn said, spotting Angelboy in the doorway. 

Angelboy nodded. “Thought of something that might help. Hope I didn’t get you too lost out there but you looked like you could handle yourself.” 

“You knew we were following you,” Gunn said unhappily.

“Of course I knew. You couldn’t resist. I expected it. You two were pretty good at it, too, but you’ve lost your edge.” Angelboy smirked.

Gunn glowered at him, and Winifred seemed concerned at the rising level of tension. “I have edge.”

“Not enough to keep up with me.” The smirk broadened. “Maybe stepping down from being in court for Wolfram and Hart dulled you.”

“Actually it was lawyering I found dull,” Gunn shot back. “Well, after a few years at any rate. It started out as a lot of fun. I loved it, and then the new wore off.”

“I get that. I’ll grant you there is a fair amount of tedium in law.” Angelboy turned his attention to Fred. “I’m being rude. I apologize for not introducing myself. I’m Angelboy. I’m guessing he’s told you a little about me.” Angelboy pointed at Gunn. “You two must be Winifred Gunn and Alexander Harris.”

“Um, Fred,” she said, with a nervous little bounce.

“And Xander,” Xander said, looking over the back of the couch.

“Angel said you did some research,” Fred said.

“I like to know who I’m dealing with. Kinda seems like Gunn and I are opposites. Gunn went from the streets to being a lawyer, and I went the other way.” Angelboy gave her a wry look. “Who’s going with me to the school, do you know?”

“I think they’re still debating it while they cook breakfast,” Xander said, and then glanced at the clock. “Lunch, brunch, whatever.”

The boy gave a victorious whoop. “Beat you again. You’re no challenge, Xander!” He looked over the back of the couch. “Would you like to play?”

Angelboy smiled softly. “Thank you but I’ll bet I’m even less of a challenge than Xander.”

The boy wrinkled his nose. “You don’t like video games?”

“I used to love them but that was a long time ago.” Angelboy’s shoulders slumped. “Or at least it feels like it.”

“That’s Joshua, by the way,” Gunn said, waving a hand at the boy. “My and Fred’s son.”

“Who’d play video games all day if we let him,” Fred said, giving her child a warning look. He just rolled his eyes.

“Not today. Dad and I are playing baseball later,” Joshua chirped up.

“Unless I have to work, kiddo.” Gunn patted his son’s head.

“Not on my account,” Angelboy said. “Play with your kid. I don’t need anyone to help me get the diary. I just figured you’d appreciate it if I didn’t break into the school.”

“That could be very bad for you,” Xander said, giving Angelboy a knowing look.

“Hasn’t been so far,” Angelboy said, scrubbing a finger in his dark beard.

“Cocky aren’t you?” Xander asked.

“Can’t get through law school unless you’re an egotistical s.o.b., right?” Angelboy looked at Gunn. Fred chuckled.

“Are you trying to ruin my rep?” Gunn scowled but his eyes filled with mirth.

Before Angelboy could respond, Angel came in. “They have lunch on the table. Please join us, Angelboy .”

Angelboy’s blue eyes narrowed. “I got the impression no one particularly wanted me around. Couldn’t we just go and get the diary?”

“They’re not ready, and I’d like it if you had lunch with us,” Angel said.

Angelboy studied his face, trying to read his motive but failing miserably. He could tell this would be a fight if he refused so decided it wasn’t worth it. “Okay. Just don’t be offended if I don’t eat much. I’m not used to so much food.”

“Whatever you want is good.” Angel turned and led the way to the dining room.

Angelboy stared at his retreating back, wondering why this man was being so nice to him. He didn’t know what Angel wanted but no one was this nice unless they wanted something from him; at least not in recent years. He could remember generosity for its own sake but it had been years since he’d see it in action. He tried not to think about it. He looked over at Fred and Gun who were following him with Xander and Joshua one step behind. “Your son’s cute.”

“Thanks.” Fred beamed proudly.

“How old is he?”

“I’m seven,” the boy replied.

“That’s the thing about Josh. He’s not shy.” Gunn smiled.

“Good.” Angelboy mumbled, freezing in the doorway to the dining room, letting the others slide around him. There were too many people in there for his comfort levels. He wanted to go back outside. He was an idiot for coming here. He should have just gone to get the diary, done his yelling and left. Now he had to sit down to a meal. He hadn’t done that in years - the thing in Angel’s office didn’t count - and it made him feel crazy, definitely killing what was left of his buzz.

“You okay?” Angel asked, touching the younger man’s shoulder.

“I don’t like crowds.” Angelboy shuddered. “Guess it’s part of my paranoia.”

“You could take your meal into my office,” Angel said.

Angelboy wrapped his arms around himself. “I....I’ll be okay.”

“You’re not bringing that stinky rag in here,” Cordelia said, stalking over to him, shaking a beautifully manicured finger at his coat.

“Cordelia!” Angel said, sternly.

“What?” she snapped back, tossing her hair over her shoulders.

“I carry pretty much everything I own in this coat,” Angelboy said, evenly.

“I doubt you have anything we’d want to steal,” Xander replied, offended.

“I was thinking more about little hands getting a hold of my needles.” Angelboy inclined his head toward Joshua.

Gunn’s eyes widened. “Oh, right. Thanks for thinking of that. I’ll lock it up in the weapons cabinet.” He held out a hand for the offending garment.

“Weapons cabinet?” Angelboy handed over his coat.

“I’m a collector,” Angel said, indicating for Angelboy to sit next to Giles.

“Cool. Got any swords? I like swords.” Angelboy sat.

Angel smiled. “I have plenty of them. Later, after you get that diary, I can show them to you, if you want.”

Angelboy’s eyes lit up. “Sure.”

“Ever use a sword?” Buffy asked from her seat at the other end of the table with Cordy and Willow.

“Swords are fun,” Joshua cried, slashing the air with his hands, nearly taking out the salt and pepper shakers on the table.

“A few too many video games,” Fred said, eyeing Xander as the guilty party for those misadventures, as she loaded up a plate with scrambled eggs smothered in salsa, toast and cantaloupe for her son. “Here you go. Why don’t you go watch cartoons in the living room.”

Joshua deflated. “Awww mom! I miss all the good stuff.” His brown eyes fixed on Angelboy, an obviously interesting stranger.

“We’re talking about books,” Fred replied. Joshua wrinkled his nose and fled. Fred rolled her eyes, and then helped herself to the brunch spread.

“That’s an odd question, you know.” Angelboy looked at Buffy. “The sword thing. How many people have an opportunity to use a sword?”

“Not many. I guess that’s why I’m always curious when I hear someone talk about liking something they’ve probably never touched,” Buffy replied.

“It’s phallic,” Willow muttered, ducking behind the fall of her short, red hair.

Angelboy snorted. “Entirely possible. I have a few replica claymores, at least I did. My parents may have sold them. I’ll have to ask Shyla.”

“Shyla?” Buffy asked.

“My youngest sister. I have two.”

“You still talk to her?” Angel asked and Angelboy saw the surprise on Angel’s face.

“I’m not supposed to. Dad forbade it but Shyla’s in college finishing up her doctoral degree and doesn’t give a damn. She figures she’s old enough to make her own choices. I have a post office box, and she writes me there.”

“No offense but why would you need a P.O. box?” Buffy took several pieces of bacon and put them on her plate next to the mess of eggs.

Angelboy shrugged. “So I can get my disability check.”

Fred cocked up an eyebrow. “Disability?”

Angelboy tapped his temple. “Mental illness is a disability.” He canted his eyes up at Angel. “Are you sitting down with us or just hovering?”

Xander laughed, and then choked on his food. “See, you hover!” he said, coughing.

Angel glared. “I’ve eaten. I’m going to head to the school. I’ll meet everyone there.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angelboy got up. “I’ll just go with you.”

“No!” Angel said so sharply that all eyes turned to him. He steeled himself and added more evenly. “I have a few other places to go first. You eat and come with the others.”

Angelboy shrugged, settling back down. “Whatever and to answer your question, Buffy, I’ve used a sword, not a real one though. A rattan one in the SCA. I know it’s not the same thing, but I forged a few, too.”

“SCA?” Buffy’s brow furrowed. 

“They’re the ones who dress up in medieval garb and play,” Giles offered, a curiously excited glint in his blue eyes.

Buffy gave him a ‘how do you know look?’ “Why?”

“It was fun. Connor Hennessy was occasionally dull. He studied too much, just ask his girlfriend. But Cillian O’Conchobhair was cool. He got to spike his hair, wear blue war paint and a kilt, not to mention armor and got to smack people with a big sword.” Angelboy grinned.

“I wouldn’t say no to smacking people with a big sword,” Gunn said. “But the dress wearing, you can keep that.”

“It was a kilt,” Angelboy grated out.

Gunn shot him an amused look. “Same difference.”

“On that note, I’m heading out,” Angel said.

“You’re sure I can’t just come with you now?” Angelboy asked.

“Sorry. It won’t take too long for everyone to eat,” Angel said, and then left.

Angelboy looked over the spread and sighed. All the momentary joviality at SCA memories drained away.

“I know it’s hard,” Gunn said. “Being offered all this food and knowing your kids are back home and hungry. When I was on the streets, I was always the last to eat, to be sure everyone else had a share.”

Angelboy nodded. “I know. I’m the same way. Believe me, those kids deserve a good meal more than me. I can fend for myself.”

“And you accomplish nothing by hurting yourself because you can’t always help them,” Giles said, taking a sip of his tea.

Angelboy could smell the brew; Earl Grey, it made him crave some. “Smart.”

Buffy laughed. “You have no idea.”

“So, did you used to win those fake battles?” Willow asked, spreading jelly on her toast.

Angelboy grinned. “Almost always. Never knew why I was so good in a fight. I mean, Dad never let me play sports or anything but I was always good with a sword. I used to kick butt in axe throws, too.”

“I’m still trying to picture you in a skirt,” Xander said, shaking his head.

“Like what you see?” Angelboy shot back, finally opting for a little bit of scrambled eggs, two generous strips of bacon and a single slice of toast. He ignored Xander’s indignant huff and Giles’ snicker as he looked for something to put on his eggs. All he saw was the pot of salsa, and then spotted the hot sauce in front of Gunn.

Gunn saw him looking. He held up the bottle, waggling it. “Want some?”

“Please.” Angelboy eyed it hungrily. It had been since forever since he had tasted hot sauce and he had a yen for the stuff. “It’s the only way to eat eggs.”

“Salsa’s better,” Fred argued amiably.

“You think everything’s better with salsa,” Gunn said, nudging his wife. 

“It is.” Her smile was lascivious, and Gunn returned it in kind. 

Ignoring the flirtation, Angelboy drowned his eggs with hot sauce, letting the bloody looking lumps slither down his throat. When was the last time he had eggs and bacon? Mom had cooked them, hadn’t she? Sudden tears rushed his eyes but he managed to blink them back. He listened to the banter, very detached from it. He didn’t belong here, in this hotel from his nightmare. He heard the Eagles in his head, ‘ _Welcome to the Hotel California. Such a lovely place.’_

This place was every bit as ominous as the song. He loved the song and the cold shivers it always sent up his spine. He knew it had some kind of political meaning but he didn’t know what. To him, it always evoked his nightmares, the hotel of sad, pretty people he couldn’t escape from, trying to devour him whole. He suddenly realized his hands were shaking so bad, he nearly dropped eggs all over his new clean shirt. He set down his fork. What little appetite he’d had was gone.

“Are we about ready? Buffy? Willow?” Giles asked as if he sensed Angelboy’s distress and wanted to get him out of the place.

“I’m ready,” Buffy said.

“Angelboy, you didn’t eat much,” Willow observed.

“I can’t...it makes me sick,” he admitted, wondering why he was telling her that. It was true. Too much rich food would have him vomiting like he was about to die. He assumed it was because he was so unused to eating a real meal his stomach couldn’t handle it.

“Okay, try for a few more nibbles. I’m almost ready,” Willow replied, and he tried to do what she wanted. He managed to get the bacon down and a little more of the eggs.

Finally they were ready, and he more than willingly followed them to the lobby. “Can I have my coat back?”

“Are you going to need it?” Buffy asked.

“No, I should be okay, and I don’t keep my drugs in the coat, just the needles.”

“Well, we’re bringing you back here. If you don’t need it, it can stay locked up,” Buffy said.

“Whatever,” Angelboy muttered, looking toward the door he knew led downstairs.

“Is something wrong?” Buffy asked, following his gaze.

Angelboy wagged his head. “You’ll think I’m nuts.”

“You already told us you were.” She offered a gentle smile.

“Good point. Part of my delusions includes this hotel. I’ve seen this thing a thousand times in my dreams. I almost took off when I saw this is where you guys were. Déjà vu in the worst, most scary way. When I was upstairs, I just knew which room was mine as if I had stayed here. And in my dreams.” He pointed. “through that door is the basement and a whole hell of a lot of pain. Ugly stuff happened there and there’s a cage, like a little jail. So, I’m just as glad that door is shut.” Angelboy shuddered, and then noticed the looks going between his three companies. “What?”

“Nothing,” Willow said but her brightness felt forced.

From that, Angelboy knew that if he crossed the room and opened the door there would be a cage not too far from the bottom of the stairs. Had he finally had a complete psychotic break and all of this was in his head? Were Lian and Night Rain alive somewhere and this was a nightmare he was trapped in? They seemed real enough. Shyla would say it was a psychic vision or something. She was into that kind of thing. Kathleen, their other sister, and their parents always pooh-poohed it but Shyla never wavered. In her world, psychics were real, right along with ghosts, and Angelboy didn’t doubt she believed in magic, too.

Whatever it was, he couldn’t stay inside the hotel any longer. He went out the front door, grateful that they followed him. He got into the back seat with Willow and settled down into a moody silence while Giles drove.


	6. Discovery at Brisbane

CHAPTER SIX

_Yesterday, a boy and already afraid_  
locked deep inside, my place to hide  
to hide from how you made me feel  
 **Yesterday - Staind**

Angelboy hesitated getting out of the car. Brisbane Academy looked different in the bright light of day, less foreboding. Momentarily stunned, Angelboy surveyed the campus and found it was larger than he had realized and obviously old. Stone had been used in much of the construction, graying with age and grit. He thought maybe this had once been a monastery or nunnery in its original life. Maybe that helped to impart the oppressive feel to it.

He followed Giles, Willow and Buffy into the main building, which he had never been in before. The steps to the wooden front doors were worn in the middle, the stone dipping down under so many footfalls over the years. The floor inside was patterned marble, counterchanged diamonds of black and pearly white. They went immediately to a large room in the center of the sprawling building. Angelboy kept his peace even though he just wanted to go and get the diary. He didn’t understand why these people had to make such a big production out of it.

Inside the room, Angel was sitting in front of a desk in a wooden chair that seemed a little too small for his large frame. Behind the desk was a stern-faced, shaved headed man, talking to a woman sitting in one of the more comfortable-looking padded chairs. Angelboy figured she was in her forties but her pale face bore few lines and her tiny, red ringlets were caught up in a careless spray on top of her head. They stopped talking when Angelboy and his companions stepped into the room.

“You got here fast,” Angelboy said to Angel, and then wrinkled his nose. “And you smell kinda funny.”

“You know, for a street kid junkie you’re awfully judgmental,” Buffy said, as Angel pulled at his shirt as if to catch the scent.

“Getting lied to does bring out my bastard side,” Angelboy craned his head up at Angel. “Can I go look for the diary now? I mean, all these people are like...not needed. It’s a one-man job. I’m not going to molest the students if you don’t dog my steps.”

“We do have other business here as well,” Angel said. “It hurts nothing that we’re all here.”

Angelboy sighed, letting his head fall back. “Fine. Can we just do it?”

“Sure,” Buffy said, happy to get it over with fast. “By the way, this is Principal Robin Wood and Dr. Lorelei McInness.” She pointed to the two people who were strangers to Angelboy.

He bobbed his head in way of greeting but didn’t offer his hand. “Sorry, you aren’t seeing me at my best.” Angelboy sounded honestly contrite.

“Being lied to can do that to any of us,” Lorelei said evenly. She offered him a hint of a smile.

“Are you a PhD type of doctor or M.D.?” Angelboy asked, and then turned to Buffy. “Girls dorm?”

“You take him,” Robin said, reaching for the phone. “I have to return a call to Mr. Mitsu.”

“This way.” Lorelei waved for Angelboy to follow. “And I’m a psychiatrist.” She went over and gave Giles a quick kiss before heading out into the hall. 

“Guess the girls here might need that given what happened to Night Rain.” Angelboy fell in step with her.

“The doc doesn’t make you nervous?” Buffy asked, coming up even with him.

He ran a hand through his long hair, almost shocked at how soft it was now that it was freshly washed. “Why would it? She’s not here for me.”

“Lots of people get nervous about psychiatrists, like they’re mind readers or something,” Buffy replied, a look of distaste on her face.

Angelboy shrugged, glancing over at Lorelei. “I’ve got nothing against psychiatrists, not even the ones I see at the clinic. Kind of a thankless job.”

“Why do you think so?” Lorelei asked, her green eyes glinting with curiosity.

“You know most of your patients can’t be helped. I mean, you’ll do the girls here a lot of good when it comes to dealing with the murder but for the crazy ones like me there’s not much you can do but snow us under with shitty drugs that make you wish you were dead.” Angelboy’s eyes went just a little dead with the mere mention of the medications.

“And taking heroin’s better?” Buffy looked over her shoulder at Angel who was oddly silence, but his eyes were fixed on Angelboy’s back.

“Buffy, heroin activates more pleasure centers in the brain than just about any activity you care to name. They say it’s better than an orgasm,” Lorelei replied, a faint smile on her lips.

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Better than an orgasm?”

“Way better!” Angelboy assured her. “Beats the shit out of drugs that turn you into a zombie so badly you only know you’re alive because of the blinding headaches and the non-stop vomiting.”

“That’s what I hated about my psych rotations,” Willow said. “I always felt guilty zoning someone out on Thorazine.”

Angelboy rolled his eyes. “I’ve only had one encounter with Thorazine and that was plenty.”

“To answer your question, Angelboy, it does get hard from time to time knowing I can’t always cure my patients, not in a way like Willow who knows something she’s sutured up will most likely heal. But there are those patients you get close to and know you’ve made a difference in their lives. They might not be cured but they are helped in some measure, happier than they had been. That’s the best feeling in the world,” Lorelei said with obvious pride.

Angelboy smiled. “I like you.”

“Thank you,” Lorelei said.

Angelboy gave Buffy a strange look, seeing her lifting an eyebrow at what he said. “Problem?”

“I was beginning to think you didn’t like anyone,” Buffy said. “But I guess you have reasons not to like us.”

“I don’t dislike any of you,” Angelboy said. “But when you meet some people, you just know you’re going to like them instantly.”

“I’m sure we’ve all felt that way from time to time,” Giles said as Lorelei led them out of the main building and started across the quad. 

Angelboy nodded, looking around at the surrounding buildings. “Damn, I had no idea this place was this big. I usually just followed Amaya into the dorm.”

“How did you get passed the night guard who works the desk?” Angel asked.

Angelboy turned, walking backwards so he could get a good look at Angel. “I almost forgot you were there. You’ve been too quiet.” 

“That’s our Angel,” Willow said, patting Angel’s arm. “Dark, silent and broody.”

Buffy rolled her eyes at that. Angel just glowered more as Angelboy snorted. “Used to be that way, and then I learned I was good at talking. As for the guard, never went past him. See that big tree?” Angelboy pointed to the tall, sprawling oak that grew up behind the dorm. 

“Up the tree and into a window?” Buffy asked. “Should have thought of that. It’s not like I hadn’t used that myself back home for years.” She shot Angel a wicked look, pleased he actually responded in kind.

“Yep, easy in and out. All the girls use it...which probably just signed the poor tree’s death warrant. Kathleen would be mad at me for that,” Angelboy said, taking the lead once they were inside the dorm. He started moving swiftly.

“Kathleen?” Angel asked.

“My other sister. Last I knew she was working on her biology PhD, a real tree hugger.” Angelboy paused at a room on the third floor. “Okay, this was Night Rain’s room so....down here.”

Angelboy led them to a spot in the hallway, and then stood on tiptoe to snag the pull-down for steps into the attic. The attic was only partially finished. He led them to a nest of old bedding that had been pulled out of a trunk. He saw them all glance at the area. Let them think it was his and Night Rain’s trysting spot. It was, after all. He walked out on the unfinished exposed beams as gracefully as a gymnast. Reaching up into a nook, Angelboy withdrew a book with exquisitely tooled leather bindings. A strange look crossed his face, and he reached back in, pulling out something else, a small bag. He brought it back and handed it to Lorelei. “You’d be the best to plumb this book’s depths.”

“You did say you felt something was bothering Amaya at the end,” Giles said.

Angelboy nodded. “I’m sure of it. The dust up here bothers me,” he said and immediately exited, sneezing several times. Once back on the third floor, he opened the bag and shook out the ingredients into his hands. Little white pills spilled out and two bags of brown, greasy looking stuff.

“Drugs?” Buffy asked, her agate eyes darkening.

“Yeah, the pills are probably ecstasy.” He tapped the design stamped into it. “These are Two Two’s. That’s his symbol. You should probably call your cop friend.”

“What’s the nasty looking stuff?” Buffy asked, almost poking it with a finger. She stopped, seeming to think better of it.

“Black tar heroin.”

“Let’s not talk about this here,” Angel said, seeing a few curious girls peering out of their dorm rooms. He spread his arms, herding them along. “Let’s go back to the office.”

Putting the pills back in the bag, Angelboy followed them back without a word. Robin looked at them in surprise when they came back. Angelboy let them all take the seats, and he sat in the center of the floor.

“Something bad happened,” Robin said, reading their expressions.

“Looks like Amaya had the ecstasy with her all the time,” Buffy said, anger coloring her voice.

“I’ll call Kate.” Angel commandeered Robin’s phone.

“You said the girls didn’t do drugs,” Willow said to Angelboy.

“Wishful thinking, I guess.” He sighed. “Look, I know Lian didn’t. I knew these past several weeks, Night Rain was getting more and more depressed. I thought she was listening to me about not using. She saw how we lived. She knew how bad it could get. Maybe she thought she had enough money so she wouldn’t end up like us. She was probably right.”

“Did you know about the heroin?” Giles asked. “Could she have bought it for you?”

Angelboy wagged his head as he pulled the bags of heroin back out of Amaya’s stash. “I doubt it. And if I had known she was going to use, I would have....” He made a face. “She did ask me about it. She didn’t know how people injected themselves. Needles scared her. I’ve never understood that. Paper cuts and stubbed toes hurt more than a needle. Anyhow, I told her I wasn’t a hitter, and I wouldn’t help her grow wings.”

“Once again in English,” Buffy said, totally missing Giles’ eye roll at that.

“A hitter injects someone for them. Lots of people just can’t do it and growing wings, that’s when you learn to inject yourself,” Angelboy said.

“So she was thinking about using,” Robin said, his dark eyes sweeping over his companions as if testing to see if any of them had had a clue, even though he already knew they didn’t.

Angelboy nodded. “And I told her she didn’t want this. I don’t like being a junkie, being out of control of my life but hey, schizophrenia already did that to me. Being high is better than living in a reality where you think vampires, ghosts and werewolves are out to get you. But I told her she was better off doing anything else rather than this, and she agreed with me. She knew my life style. I mean, I haven’t washed since the last time she sneaked me in here and I borrowed the dorm shower. Believe me, that’s what took me so long at Hotel California. I couldn’t resist hogging the hot water and that bed...if I wasn’t so paranoid about being trapped in the hotel, I would have been so tempted to lay down on a real bed where rats aren’t trying to nibble on me and I don’t have to shove cotton in my ears to keep roaches out.”

“Okay, stop. That’s nasty.” Buffy shuddered, seeing the pain in Angel’s face. She knew Angel had lived a similar life once upon a time before meeting her. Angel looked positively gutted listening to Angelboy describe the horrors of his life. “And we get your point. I just hate thinking Amaya was this miserable, and she felt she couldn’t talk to any of us about it.”

Her friends nodded slowly, regret in their eyes that no one had noticed and helped. Angelboy sensed fear in them, too. What if Night Rain wasn’t the only girl hurting and sad? She had wanted him to meet some of her friends. What if they were like her? He held his tongue though, unsure as to why Night Rain had brought up her friends to him and what he did know about it, these people wouldn’t want to hear.

He almost confessed anyway, and then decided if it was in the diary they would find out on their own and not be colored by his own paranoia’s about Night Rain’s motives. “That’s why I thought you should have the diary. Maybe there’s something in there that’ll help you guys. If you’re right about it being a serial killer then nothing in the diary will help, other than to let you understand her better but if you’re wrong, it might have clues in it.”

“We appreciate it,” Buffy said, wearily. She tried to give him an encouraging look, knowing she hadn’t been particularly nice to him. She realized he was trying to help in his own way. She had met enough people who had been so torn up by the world that they trusted no one. Buffy understood how hard it had to be for Angelboy to be here.

Her change in attitude appeared to work. He relaxed slightly. “Yeah, well, I hope it helps.”

“Kate is coming directly here,” Angel said. “She wants to talk to you, Robin, about if you want her to bring in a K-9 team and do a random sweep of the school.”

Robin fiddled with his tie tack. “I hate doing that but I think it might be for the best.”

Angelboy winged the bag of drugs to Angel who caught it. Angel stared at the two bags of heroin lying next to Angelboy. “Shouldn’t you give me those, too?”

Angelboy took off his boot and stuck a finger in a slit inside its tongue. He slipped the two tiny baggies into it. “Nope. That’s mine. I don’t really like black tar but who am I to bitch at free drugs?”

“Kate will wonder about it,” Angel said as non-confrontationally as he could. “I told her it was there.”

“Tell her I stole it. What’s she gonna do? By the time she finds me, the evidence will be gone.” Angelboy gave him a defiant look. Angel glared, and Angelboy thought for a moment he was going to be attacked.

Angel finally glanced away. “Guess that’s just less you’ll have to buy.”

“Provided I use it. I like to know whom I’m buying from. One hotshot is all it’ll take to make it all end.” He smiled widely, psychotically. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

“Death isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Buffy muttered. Angel got up and went over to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. She leaned her head against his arm. Willow shared with Buffy a look of deep apology.

Angelboy cocked his head and waited for her to explain but she didn’t. “Can I go back to the hotel now? I’d rather not be here when the cops arrive.”

“I should stay here with Robin to talk to Kate,” Giles said. “Lorelei, were you planning on going back to the Hyperion to read the diary?”

“I’ve been working two days straight. I could use a break so, yes I was thinking of doing just that,” she said. Giles surrendered his keys to her. 

“I’ve things to do here,” Angel said, not looking at Angelboy. “I’ll have to pass on showing you my sword collection.”

“S’okay, another time,” Angelboy said, and Angel seemed relieved that there might be another time, surprising him.

“I’ll stay and help you, Angel,” Buffy said, squeezing his hand, a curious expression on her face as she tried to puzzle out why Angel was so obviously taken with Angelboy.

“I’ll go with Lorelei to get started on the diary. Once we swing by the hotel to get your jacket, Angelboy, would you like us to take you home?” Willow asked.

“Nah. They’ll already wonder why I’m clean and got new clothes. Getting chauffeured back will be just one more thing to explain.”

Angelboy followed them to the car, stretching out in the back seat, intending to catch a nap in a clean, soft place but he got involved in the banter between the two red heads. Lorelei really got him started by quoting something from Red Dwarf in response to a quip from Willow. She rolled her eyes as the Red Dwarf geek love fest got rolling full force between Lorelei and Angelboy, but even she was laughing by the time they entered the Hyperion’s lobby.

“You have a very wicked sense of humor, Angelboy. You remind me of Spike,” Willow said, unlocking the weapon’s cabinet to get his coat.

“Is that good or bad?” 

“Depends on who you ask,” Willow replied, with an evil grin. 

“Do I hear my favorite flame tops?” someone asked.

Angelboy stared as a green-faced man with reddish horns swept into the room. The man froze, looking surprised to see a stranger. Angelboy took in the purple suit and yellow tie. It was like looking at Mardi Gras come to life.

“Umm, Lorne,” Willow said with a nervous look between them. “This is Angelboy. He’s helping to find Amaya’s killer.” She fetched his jacket.

“You’re that guy who brought a Vegas act into town, aren’t you?” Angelboy asked. “The karaoke-fortune telling thing. What’s the club called?”

“Caritas.” Lorne smiled. “Yes, that’s me.”

Angelboy wrinkled his nose. “Didn’t expect to see you in full make up outside of the club.”

“We were...doing a promotional shoot here. The courtyard is picturesque, much more so than where the club is,” Lorne said, and everyone relaxed a hair when Angelboy seemed to accept that.

“Cool. My sister Shyla would love to go there. That’s her kind of thing.”

“There’s no cover charge. Just send her along,” Lorne said.

Angelboy nodded. “I’ll write her about it. I better go. Hotel California is really freaking me out especially since I’m coming down.” Angelboy turned to leave, singing softly to himself, “ _Last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before. ‘Relax’ said the nightman, ‘We are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave’_.”

Hearing something heavy hitting the floor, Angelboy stopped and whirled around. He saw Lorne lying there with both doctors at his side, checking him out in concert. “What happened?”

“He fainted,” Willow said.

“He’s been working a little too hard and not eating enough,” Lorelei added as Lorne came to.

“Whoa,” he muttered.

“You okay? Can you stand up?” Willow asked.

Lorne bobbed his head and the ladies helped him up. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Angelboy asked.

“No, I’ll be fine, thanks,” Lorne said, unconvincingly.

Angelboy looked to the women who nodded. He shrugged and headed out. He almost expected not to get out the door, that he’d be trapped just like in his dreams. Instead, he found himself outside in the sun. Happy at that, he headed for home, wondering what he’d tell his kids about his new duds.


	7. Confrontations

CHAPTER SEVEN 

_You won’t cry for my absence, I know -_  
You forgot me long ago.  
Am I that unimportant...?  
Am I so insignificant...?  
Isn’t something missing?  
Isn’t someone missing me?  
 **Missing - Evanescence**

“Robin, Giles, can you handle Kate?” Angel asked as his son left. His eyes never left the door Connor had disappeared through.

“Sure. Is there a problem?” Robin asked, confusion written into the subtle lines of his face.

“No, but there’s something that I have to do,” Angel said, getting up.

“And there’s something Angel and I need to talk about,” Buffy said, firmly. She took his hand and pulled him into her office before he could say anything. Her office showed little signs that she actually occupied it on a daily basis, a few files on the desk, nothing on the wall, a picture of the whole crew at a New Year’s Eve party and a half dead plant from Willow on the window sill.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as she shoved him onto a seat, and then closed the door.

“Probably the same thing that is bugging you.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “Angelboy.” 

“You really dislike him, don’t you?” Angel sounded very disappointed, getting back up from the chair. He knew sitting still was an impossibility for him at this point.

Buffy considered that for a moment, and then said, “I don’t like what he is but I think he cares about what happened to those girls and wants to help, that’s a good thing. Then I think of all the lost potential he represents, and I get angry...” Her eyes clouded. “Maybe because I look at Dawn and Xander and Willow and think of their lost potential. They could have gone anywhere, been anything but they got trapped in my crazy life.”

Angel tipped her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. “I doubt they see it that way, Buffy. And it’s far too late to change any of it.” He ran his thumb along the hollow of her cheek. “I think most of them are happy in their lives.”

Buffy sighed, slapping her hands against her thighs. “I know but....” 

“But you and I have a bad habit of trying to run our friends lives, making their decisions for them,” Angel said, knowing how horribly true it was and how often that instinct had blown up in both of their faces; his more than Buffy’s, but still he knew she understood what he meant. 

The clearest example was the day he turned back, the day he had become human. He had confessed about that day to Buffy after Cordelia had regained consciousness. He didn’t know if somewhere in her Swiss cheese-memories, Cordelia would remember that Doyle told her about that day and accidentally it slip to Buffy. He had thought for a time that Buffy would leave him forever after learning about that transgression. When she finally forgave him, they both realized that their relationship was real. He wasn’t just her high school crush, that they had something that required a lot of hard work; the best things usually did.

Right then and there, Angel understood his worst mistake. He had made the decisions for everyone when it came to Connor, and he had opted for the easy fix but he still didn’t see any other way to deal with Connor’s suicidal, potentially homicidal, insanity. There hadn’t appeared to be any other way. He didn’t see a harder path, the one that took work, at least not one he had time for. His son would have been dead or imprisoned before a better way than trusting Wolfram and Hart could be found.

“Angel,” Buffy said, sharply.

Angel looked at her, realized she had been talking to him but he hadn’t heard any of it. “Sorry.”

“It’s like you know something about this junkie that you aren’t telling us.” Her lips were pinched. She was losing patience with him.

“What makes you say that?” He moved away from her, edging around the room, hoping she didn’t see how nervous that made him. 

“Because you’re acting strange. I know you, Angel. I know there’s something you aren’t telling me.” Buffy tossed herself into the desk chair. “And I think Angelboy is running some kind of scam on us.”

Angel paused, looking over his shoulder at her. “What do you mean?”

“After you left, he started rambling about there being a cage in the basement. Now, he wasn’t ever in the basement.” Buffy plucked dead leaves off her plant. “Willow did the mind-talk thing with me in the car on the way here. She thinks maybe he’s a psychic or something. I think he snuck into the hotel and scoped it out.”

Angel fussed with the stuff on her desk, determinedly not looking at her. He realized it wasn’t psychic abilities or Connor casing the joint. It had to be a crack in the spell, like Connor thinking he knew about vampires and werewolves, about how he thought Angel looked familiar. “Why would he do that?”

Buffy picked up the plant, holding it over the garbage can. “Who knows? To freak us out? To make us think he’s more clever than he is? Or maybe he’s just so damn high he doesn’t know he’s tipping us off to him being in the hotel. He might be planning to rob us. He is a junkie, after all. It’s what they do.”

Angel went over to her. “How would he get in? We have defenses.”

“Yes, against demon attacks. All the spells are geared to sensing demons, stopping them. We haven’t had a functioning burglar alarm since the time that Robihasal demon fritzed all the spells and electrical wiring at the same time,” Buffy said, giving up her herbicidal thoughts. She put the plant back on the sill. “For all Angelboy knows, we have plenty to steal. I don’t think his being psychic has anything to do with it.”

“So, do you want us to install another burglar alarm?” Angel asked, very much like a husband giving into a wife’s demands. “I think the cameras still works.”

“Yes, and I want you to be careful.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “He’s getting to you.”

Angel nodded. “I’ll be careful but him potentially scouting out the hotel doesn’t explain how he knew what Dru was.”

Buffy cocked her head. “So, you think he is psychic?”

“Stranger things have happened.” Angel headed for her door. “Why don’t you give Robin and Giles a hand? I have to go to the firm.”

“Any reason?”

“Unfinished business.”

Angel didn’t give Buffy a chance to argue. He headed out the door and down into the sewers. It was a long walk from the school to the firm, and it gave him time to kindle his rage from the embers he had been keeping it at to a full blown bonfire. He was going to find Lilah today if it was the last thing he did. She had to know what had happened to his son. He suspected Eve had known, too, but she was dead.

Of course, Lilah was as well but it was a simple matter of gluing on her head to get her corpse all magicked up and good to go. Eve had met with a much more grisly, and satisfying, end. The Angelus in him wished he had been the one to think of it. With Eve gone, Lilah had been called up more and more, and Angel was counting on her being around, especially since she thought he would be gone for the weekend.

He wasn’t disappointed. Lilah was in her office. She was wearing a grey suit, the one Cordelia coveted from Versace. Angel didn’t really see the attraction. Lilah was on the phone when he stalked in. The look in her eye, the way she set the phone down, told him she was terrified. She might be dead but she still felt pain in this form, and she was expecting to feel a lot of it the moment he locked the door behind him.

Angel prowled over and his deadly animal aura was abruptly interrupted by the strains of “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling” percolating out of his pocket. Buffy had programmed that damn song into his phone. He had wanted Ravel’s “Bolero” or something else classical but she was adamant, until he learned to do it himself he was at her mercy. Regardless of what song it played, his phone had shattered the moment.

He yanked it out of his pocket, saw it was the hotel and crushed it. He let the shards trickle from his thick fingers. However, that was all the time Lilah needed to compose herself. She managed one of her patented self-confidant smirks but Angel could see it was more tentative than normal.

“What brings you here, Angel?” She tossed her hair, trying to put on her superior air.

“Don’t go there, Lilah. We both know why I’m here,” Angel grated out. “You knew.”

Lilah came out from behind her desk. Angel didn’t know if it was because she was already dead and figured there was nothing he could do to her, or that she trusted he wouldn’t fly in the face of the Senior Partners by doing something to her, but she didn’t seem that afraid now. When he thought about it, she so rarely looked frightened of him, and that was a disturbing revelation. “Of course we knew.”

“How could you let this happen?” He winced. He sounded so weak, he hated it.

Lilah snorted at him, and then tapped his chest with a French-manicured nail. “Let it? Are you forgetting who came to us, hat in hand with the limp body of his son after nearly crushing the boy’s trachea when you turned the blade at the last moment to hit him with the flat?”

Angel resisted the urge to snap off her finger but only just barely. He took a step back, realizing he was following their usual dance steps. Her leading because he was too afraid of letting Angelus out of his cage if he did to Lilah what she deserved to have done.

She pursued him. “We rewrote history for you, Angel. Do you have any idea how difficult, how costly the magic was to erase the memories of everyone Connor had come into contact with? We had to find your boy a family to nurture him and rewrite their whole lives. Connor was an investment to us. We didn’t _let_ anything happen to him. You were the one who let him go, Angel. _You_ cut yourself off from him. We didn’t. When he didn’t want to go to a free college here in California, we made up and awarded him a full ride scholarship so he could go to Notre Dame, like you wanted, and then another so he could attend Columbia. We let him intern with our branch in New York. He was a damn promising young lawyer, another Lindsey or better yet, me, in the making.” Lilah smirked. “We offered him a job here. No one was more disappointed when he freaked out. We lost out nearly a quarter of million dollars in his training alone.”

“And I suppose Wolfram and Hart did this out of the goodness of their hearts.” Angel shoved Lilah back. What had he allowed to happen? Deep down he knew the truth; he was a pawn who had convinced himself he was a knight.

“You never cared why we did it, Angel. Asking a decade later means nothing.” Lilah grinned at him.

“Don’t toy with me, Lilah. You have no clue how dangerous that is.” Angel’s eyes slotted, the muscles of his back and shoulders tensing. Angelus rattled the cage door.

She sat back in her chair, a brand new one smelling of fresh leather. “What? You’re going to make me deader? I’m trembling.”

“They didn’t have to let this happen to him, Lilah.” He loomed over her to no avail. “They could have fought harder to help him, if only to protect their investment, so why didn’t they?”

“That’s a laugh, you lecturing me on fighting harder. You gave up the moment the kid needed you the most. Do you want to see the tape of it? It didn’t get erased. We kept a copy for insurance. Do you want to see him begging for his daddy not to let go of him again? And what did you do? Tossed him to people who at the time were your greatest enemy, the people who had trying to get him since before he was born.” Lilah twirled a pen between her fingers, openly mocking him.

Angel’s entire body went into battle readiness. “Lilah...”

“Maybe your precious Buffy would like to see the tape.” Lilah rocked back in her chair, her heeled foot tapping time in the air.

Angel knew she was enjoying this. She knew how deeply she was cutting him. Practically from the moment he had handed his son over, he had second guessed himself. He had always felt he had given up too easily. If he had only chosen another path, his son wouldn’t be squatting in some dump shoving poison in his veins. How did he even know what happened in New York? Wolfram and Hart could have run their experiments on Connor there without him knowing, while he was even helping them on the west coast. They could have shattered Connor themselves once they had finished with him. “What did he do, Lilah, that disappointed the Senior Partners so much? Panic over a single vampire? Did they think he was too weak to handle your clientele? Surely they had to know better than that. Didn’t it ever occur to them to just tweak the spell? That’s what made him think he was insane, some of his past seeping through. They threw out something they worked very hard to create and I need to know why.”

“Ask the question you really want to, Angel. Why did we turn him into a Wolfram and Hart lawyer in the first place?” Lilah’s arrogant smirk slithered across her face but without the earlier fragility. She knew she had taken control from him and short of becoming the beast, something all too easy to do, Angel didn’t know how to get it back. He also knew Lilah wasn’t about to tell him why Wolfram and Hart had given up on his son. There was no point in pushing it. It would only give her fuel for her superiority fire.

“If I thought I’d get an answer, I’d ask. I’ve been living a lie for ten years thinking things had changed here, that we were doing good, lying to myself that Connor was somewhere living a great life when the truth is my partners knew he’d gone mad, and they stood by doing nothing. You could have at least told me that he was in trouble, that he was insane.”

“Insane? What makes you think he has any mental issues?” Lilah got up sauntering back over to him. “Because it’s easier? Say it, Angel. Connor’s a common junkie. He might think he’s insane but the truth is, he’s not. He turned to heroin because it’s easier than dealing with his problems.”

“That’s not it,” Angel snapped, trying to rally his strength. Every word was a like a splinter edging ever closer to his heart. His rage had been washed out by despair. He wished he had allowed Buffy to come with him. He needed her as a touchstone, desperate to draw from her strength.

“Isn’t it?” Lilah ran a hand over his cheek until he batted her away. “He’s just like his daddy, takes the path of least resistance.”

Angel almost snarled something back at her but knew he was just playing her game. He fought to pretend it didn’t hurt. “You could have at least told me, Lilah. I could have tried to protect your investment and save my son from this.”

“Oh, we would have told you eventually when it would have benefitted us for you to know your son was a homeless smack whore feeding his habit any way he can. I’m surprised he hasn’t been arrested for theft or prostitution. According to our intelligence, he’s a talented specialist, rough trade and other less vanilla treats. Guess he took after his mother. I’m sure she was very oral, too.” Lilah gave him that superior look again.

Angel’s hand shot out. He had no intention of quelling his rage. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head off her shoulders. Her eyes flew wide open. Her mouth working silently with no lungs to provide air for sounds. Her body flopped to the ground without her head to control it. “If you don’t want me to drop your head someplace it’ll never be found, you’ll never repeat what you just said. You had better find a way to fix this, Lilah, or you’ll quickly learn death isn’t the worst thing that can happen to you.”

He bowled her head back to her body and didn’t bother to wait and see if it actually came within grabbing distance of her twitching hands. He headed for the sewer, furious with himself for letting her get to him again. He needed to get home. He had too much to think about.

 

X X X

 

When he got home, Angel thought for a moment about taking his rage out on his exercise equipment again but he realized he was more exhausted than angry; the deep weariness that comes from a soul split open and left bleeding. He didn’t even go up the elevator to his penthouse. He might meet up with his friends if he went that way and he wasn’t in the mood for them.

He ghosted up the back stairwell, lighter on his feet than he could have imagined given the heaviness of his heart. Angel kicked off his boots just inside the door, which was something he usually nagged at Buffy for doing. He didn’t bother stripping as he stalked past his tasteful Asian-themed living room and into the bedroom. He pulled the curtains, blocking the sun, and then flopped on the bed, clothing and all. He lay there on the stupid wisteria bedspread. It was hard to brood on something so cheery. Still, it didn’t stop him from falling into a deep sulk. He didn’t look up, hearing someone come in. 

He could smell Buffy’s perfume as she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, trailing a hand up his spine. His skin twitched under his soft shirt, an involuntary reaction to being touched in a vulnerable spot. He didn’t lift his face out of the pillow to look at his lover. 

She leaned over, her weight resting on his shoulder blades. “Want to talk about it?’

“No.”

She sat up. “I hate to say this, Angel but we need you downstairs. We’ve been calling you practically since you left the school.” Buffy massaged his neck.

“The phone broke.”

“Again?” She sounded perturbed. “I came up here to get my stinky shoes to go on a sewer-to-sewer search for you.” Her strong fingers worked his shoulders.

“If the hotel isn’t burning down around me, Buffy, I don’t care what anyone wants. I’m not moving,” he grumbled into his pillow.

“Fine.” Her hands stopped massaging his cool flesh. “Then you don’t care what happened with Angelboy once they all got back here.”

Angel rolled to his side, hitching up on one arm. “What?”

Buffy crossed her arms, annoyance flitting across her fine features. “Thought you’d be interested.”

“Tell me,” he demanded. The hardening of her eyes made him regret his curtness. “Please.”

She bobbed her head at the change in attitude. “He met Lorne.” Seeing his wide-eyed look, Buffy added hurriedly, “Angelboy bought that Lorne was in stage make up doing a photo shoot at the hotel but then he sang _Hotel California_ for some unknown reason.”

“Do you know the lyrics, Buffy?” Angel asked as his mind whirled. What had Lorne seen? Had he penetrated the spell? No, if Lorne had, Buffy wouldn’t be able to hold in her rage over such a big deception. 

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s old Giles-type music.”

“If you knew the lyrics, you’d understand. Angelboy has nightmares about this place.” Angel rolled his bottom lip over his teeth. “So what did Lorne see?”

“He won’t say. He wanted to wait to tell you.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “He’s doing the drama queen thing. But whatever it was, it made him pass out cold.”

“That can’t be good,” Angel said, his insides tightening up. Lorne had seen something. Maybe the spell was broken, at least a little, and Lorne was smart enough not to say anything to the others. Maybe something really bad was going to happen to his son. Hadn’t Cordelia had a vision like that?

Buffy leaned in and kissed him gently. “You needed a little loving.” She got up, heading for the door.

He smiled, struggling out of bed. “I did. Let’s go see what Lorne has to say.”

Buffy took his hand. Angel didn’t pause to put on shoes, padding downstairs in his stocking feet. Lorne was on the couch, cool towel on his head, a mixed drink in one hand and a very put upon expression on his face. Angel wasn’t in the mood for the histrionics Lorne was prone to but he had to find out what was going on. Angel took stock of who else was waiting. Gunn and Xander were looking expectantly at him. Willow was absorbed in reading Amaya’s diary and Fred and Joshua were missing, probably somewhere where Joshua wouldn’t overhear anything. Cordelia was mixing a drink at the portable mini-bar, presumably for Lorne. Giles and Robin were nowhere in sight so Angel assumed they were still with Kate at the school. Lorelei was unaccounted for but Angel remembered hearing her say she was tired and suspected she was in her and Giles’ suite.

Lorne sat up, taking the towel off his head and traded the empty martini glass for the one Cordelia offered him. Angel caught a whiff of cranberries and vodka. Lorne’s red-orange eyes canted up at him. “Angelcakes, I don’t know who that boy is who was here earlier but he’s trouble...or in trouble.”

Angel crossed his arms, looking down at Lorne. He knew he shouldn’t be trying to intimidate his friend but he wasn’t in the mood for ciphers. “Which is it?”

Lorne, currently impervious to the glower, sipped his drink. “Both. It’s been a long time since a reading laid me out flatter than a Imewar’s heiny but just a few warbles from that boy, and it was like getting hit by the cross-town bus.” Lorne rubbed his head between the horns for emphasis.

“Did you get any impressions that might actually be helpful?” Angel pressed, wondering why he seemed to be unable to intimidate anyone today.

Lorne’s lip curled. “Someone went back for seconds on his daily bowl of snarky.”

“Angelboy is helping us to find a killer. If I can help him in return, then it’s something I plan on doing,” Angel said, trying to suppress his growing annoyance.

“Do you really think you can help a junkie?” Xander asked.

“Very few people are beyond help,” Angel said, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Lorne to give Xander a ‘shut up’ look. “We have enough examples in our own little group to prove that. Me, Spike, Faith, even Willow.” He gestured to the witch, and she closed the diary, more interested now in the conversation.

“Lorne didn’t get much more than I did with my vision,” Cordelia said, sitting on the love seat.

“Afraid Pixie-cat is right.” Lorne set aside his drink. “It was all emotion with no form. There’s a whole big blackness centered around that kid. I’ve only seen something that dark once or twice before. I couldn’t tell you if he’s going to be the victim of violence or the perpetrator. Might be six of one, a half dozen of the other. Just the feel of him makes me want to pack my bags and do a little Christmas in July shopping in New York City, London, anyplace far from here. Might be time to cut him loose, Angel. We’re a detective agency. The LAPD is on the case. I don’t think we need that young man. He’s going to be more trouble than he’s worth.”

Angel turned away, contemplated the mini-bar. He decided if he had a drink now his friends would only assume something was wrong and bother him until he either confessed or, more likely, got irritated and growled at them. 

“Lorne might have a point,” Gunn said. “We’ve probably already got as much as we’re gonna out of Angelboy.”

“Not necessarily so.” Willow waggled the diary. “Amaya mentioned him a lot in here. He might know more than he’s telling.”

“Anything we need to know, Will?” Buffy asked.

“I want to talk to Lorelei before we get into what’s in the diary.” She shrugged. “That and actually finish reading it. Amaya was troubled, and I think a few of the other girls might be, too. So far, nothing that would have led to her death other than some bad decisions.”

“I’m not ready to cut Angelboy loose,” Angel said. “And I doubt Kate is either.” He turned back to face them. “I’m not asking anyone else to deal with him, if you don’t want to. I can respect that. We’ve certainly faced far worse things together, though.”

Before anyone could respond to that, Giles and Robin came into the room, their faces grim. Angel felt Buffy tensing up beside him. He braced himself for the bad news. “Where’s Kate?” he asked.

“She was going to come here, talk about the diary,” Giles said.

“And the missing heroin,” Robin added, shooting Angel a meaningful look.

“But she got a call. They found two more bodies in an alley outside of the Lovely Latte,” Giles said. 

Everyone stiffened, looks of disbelief on their faces. “Aw man, do you know who got killed?” Gunn slapped the table top. “I always stop there to get my all-nighter juice whenever we have a long stake out.”

“We all do,” Buffy said, her voice tight with anger and sadness. “Giles?”

“We don’t know any more than that.” Giles fussed with his glasses. “No names yet.”

“Kate said she’d swing by here tonight but probably not until late,” Robin added. 

Angel scrubbed a hand over his face. “We ought to get some rest. I want us out there tonight, see what we can find.” 

He didn’t wait for any input, stalking back up the steps. Once inside his haven, he took the time to strip before sliding between the sheets. Buffy came in and laid down, facing him. She ran a hand up his arm.

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet, Buffy.”

“Did I ask?” She sighed. “It might make things easier, Angel.”

He considered that for a nanosecond before dismissing it. “Not really.”

“Do you see something of yourself in this kid?” she asked gently. “I mean, Whistler told me a little about how he found you, and you’ve filled in the rest. I know you were homeless once, too. So was Gunn, and I don’t see him obsessing.” 

“Gunn’s not the obsessing kind.” Angel brushed back her hair. “It’s more than that. I know what it’s like to be a slave to an addiction, Buffy. So does Willow. It’s hell. Willow was lucky. She had all of you to help her. I managed to help myself but only by living outside this world, like Angelboy is now. I couldn’t help myself for decades, not until I met you. There are some things you really can’t do by yourself. And I know it’s not our problem, and he’s not asking for help but that doesn’t mean you can’t try.”

She caught his hand, kissing his fingertips. “I love that you even think to try. I don’t think it would have even occurred to me.”

“You’ve been in a lot of bad places, Buffy, but none like this. I have. Gives me an insight I guess.”

She just smiled at him and cuddled in close. Angel shut his eyes, holding her, pretending he could actually get some sleep before the sun set. All he could think about was what Lorne said; Connor was in trouble or was about to start it or both. Knowing his son, which he hated to admit he didn’t any more, Angel was willing to bet the hotel on both.


	8. Warning

CHAPTER EIGHT

_The pressure is on - the wolf is at the door_  
All the ghosts that haunt my life are screaming out for more   
I try to fight them   
But I just can’t win   
I’m always on the outside  
Always tryin’ to get in   
Tell me again of what love can bring   
**Savage Moon-Thompson Twins**

 

Kate got to the Hyperion just after ten in the evening, astonished to find it quiet; only Buffy, Angel and Giles were up and about in the library. She expected Giles but she thought Buffy and Angel would be out still. She was surprised that no one other than Giles was with them. Kate paused, trying to find the last of her strength. It had been a long, trying day. “Hey.” They looked up, Giles seeming particularly tired. Kate wondered if he was finally getting too old for this. “No good news.”

“We feared as much.” Giles cleaned his glass out of old, nervous habit. “It was the same killer?”

Kate nodded, flopping into a chair. “Think so. Both bodies appeared to have been mauled and gnawed.”

“More homeless kids?” Angel asked, with more dread than Kate was used to hearing in his voice.

Kate rubbed her eyes. “No. It was Em and Tori, the two owners of the coffee shop.”

“God, we know them,” Buffy said, horrified. She scooted to the edge of her seat. “Any new clues, Kate?”

“I wish. It honestly looks like a pack of wild dogs but it can’t be. There are too many victims now and except for Em and Tori, all the victims were homeless or into the drug scene,” Kate said. “If I could have brought you two in to check out the bodies, I would have. I’m still wondering if you can’t sneak into the morgue, Angel, and sniff around, literally.”

Angel bobbed his head. “I can do that. It might not tell us anything but it’s worth a shot. And I’m sorry about this afternoon, calling you in, and then leaving you with Giles and Robin.”

“No problem. There’s more to the drug story, too.” Kate stretched, trying to shake off her fatigue.

“How so?” Giles asked. “You and Robin decided on contacting K-9 and letting them set up a sweep.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean at the school. I got a call today from Angelboy. He didn’t identify himself but I recognized the voice. He gave up Two Two’s drugstore. Two Two is in custody after a shootout with police so you’ll be glad to know the man who sold your Slayer drugs won’t be seeing the light of day for twenty-five to life if we’re lucky.” Kate grinned.

“Did Angelboy do it for us, because of Amaya?” Buffy asked.

Kate shrugged. “Who knows.”

“He was very upset Amaya had bought drugs, and he never seemed to like Two Two to begin with,” Angel put in, getting up. 

“But won’t that get Angelboy in trouble if they find out he snitched?” Worry flashed into Buffy’s agate eyes. She reached out to anchor Angel before he paced another rut in the floor.

“If they find out. However, they won’t learn it from me. I logged it as an anonymous tipster when I got the call,” Kate said. “Two Two thinks another dealer rolled on him.”

“Well, I’m just glad he’s gone because I was feeling like going out there and hurting him,” Buffy said grimly, missing the look of concern Giles bestowed on her.

“Want me to head to the morgue?” Angel finally shook free of Buffy’s grip but only to give her hair a soothing stroke.

“Why not?” Kate showed no signs of getting up enough steam to stand.

“Giles!” Willow cried, running into the library with Lorelei on her heels. She pulled up short seeing everyone. “Oh, better yet. We’re mostly all here.”

“What’s wrong?” Giles asked.

“We have a very big problem.” Lorelei shoved Amaya’s diary at him. “Read.”

Giles flipped open to the bookmark and his jaw drop. “Dear Lord.”

“Care to share?” Buffy peered over her Watcher’s shoulder.

“Amaya wrote a lot about her feelings,” Willow said. “Feeling isolated even at school, feeling poor despite all her parents’ money, feeling out of control.”

“Sounds like typical teenaged stuff,” Kate said, suppressing a yawn.

Lorelei nodded. “Ordinarily I’d agree but then she started talking about the Slayer strength, the darkness involved with this job, and she loved it.”

“Former Faith kinda loving it?” Buffy asked, trepidation darkening her gaze.

Willow’s huge eyes confirmed Buffy’s worst fear. “That kind of loving it but worse. I mean, Faith started down the wrong path with just stealing, which Amaya was doing, too, but Faith accidentally killed someone the first time out. Amaya was planning it.”

“Planning it?” Kate sat bolt upright.

Angel went over and took the book from Giles. “Angelboy.” His voice shook.

Lorelei squeezed onto the small couch with her lover. Giles pulled her close. “Exactly. Angelboy said she was rougher with him than normal. She was getting a thrill out of hurting him. It started just as experimentation but she enjoyed his pain. But she didn’t just want to kill him to find out what killing a human was like. She wanted to share it.”

“Did she say with who?” Buffy ripped the diary from Angel’s hands, losing the bookmark. She paged through it frantically as if willing the names to surface.

“Tricia Calloway and Leda White,” Willow said. 

“I’m still thinking of the best way to approach them,” Lorelei said. “All of us need to get together first thing tomorrow since half of us are too tired to think much less try to come up with a plan to reach these girls. If we go in tonight, let them know we are aware of their plans, before we have an idea how to handle this, we could do more harm than good.”

“The only problem is they’ve both met Angelboy. They know Amaya’s plan, and she thought they were on board,” Willow fretted.

“The fly in the ointment was Angelboy wouldn’t play with them. They’re under-aged. Still, they know where he is, and now they’re mad that he wouldn’t let them do to him what he allowed Amaya to do.” Lorelei took Giles’ hand, and he squeezed it.

“Then he could be in real danger,” Kate said, the lines around her eyes deepening.

“I’m not taking a chance on letting those girls become killers,” Angel said, as Buffy handed the diary back to Giles. “Buffy and I will see if we can find him tonight and warn him. I’ll go wake up Gunn. He and Dawn tracked Angelboy but I trust Gunn to have paid more attention to the city. He could at least get us into the general ballpark.”

“Give me a minute, Angel. I’ll call the taskforce and see if they have any known hangouts for Angelboy,” Kate said, rolling to her feet.

“Thanks.” Several varieties of grateful layered his voice.

“I’ll get some weapons ready,” Buffy said. “Giles, you, Lorelei and Willow can work out the other problem. Robin should still be awake, bring him up to speed.”

“We’ll handle it,” Giles assured her.

“Angel, if you don’t find him it should still be okay.” Lorelei tried to sound positive. “They’ve had these plans for weeks. Without Amaya to lead them, they may not act at all.”

“Or they might have something to prove to her memory,” Angel countered, his body tensing. Buffy stroked his arm.

Lorelei spread her hands. “Possibly.”

“I’m not taking chances.” Angel stalked out of the room.

Buffy was shocked at the look of true fear in his eyes. One way or the other, she had to find a way to make him tell her what it was about Angelboy that had him so spooked. 

 

X X X

 

“This is as close as you can get us?” Angel asked, disappointed as he piloted his convertible through town.

“I lost him, remember?” Gunn replied, irritably. “He’s crafty, lots of street kids are. Hell, very few vampires were able to track down me and my crew.”

Angel kept the thought, ‘ _because they hadn’t been trying hard_ ,’ to himself. “I know, Gunn. Sorry. And I know the chances of those young Slayers coming tonight to find him are almost zero but I want to warn him.”

“Maybe that church where Amaya died is close to Angelboy’s hideaway,” Buffy suggested. “I can’t see her dragging a thirteen year old girl with her all over town.”

Angel gave her an appreciative nod. “Good point. I’m getting nothing here anyhow. We’ll try that.”

“And as bad as Angelboy smells, even Gunn should be able to pick up the scent,” Buffy said, and then held up her hand. “I know, I know, that was Cordy-worthy.”

“I’m just glad you never smelled me when Whistler brought me to see you outside of Hemery,” Angel replied, not sounding particularly offended.

“At least you never saw me at my worst. I could have rivaled Cordelia back in Hemery.” Buffy shuddered.

“You could have beaten her,” Angel said, making a sharp turn into a narrow side road.

“How would you know?” Buffy crossed her arms, giving him a sideways look.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, trying not to smile. “While you were sucking on the biggest lollipop you could find, I heard you planning to make some boy crawl on his knees for you.”

“You saw that?” Buffy’s eyes shone with horror.

“Me and every boy in a hundred yard radius.” Angel mimed moving a lollipop in and out of his mouth. “You could have played count the erections.”

Buffy slapped him across the chest hard, and he jerked the steering wheel.

“I’m keeping out of this. Things always get weird when Angel tries to have a sense of humor,” Gunn said wisely, shifting around on the back seat of the convertible so he could watch their hands better. “It’s a good thing you don’t need to breathe, man.”

“You’re telling me.” Angel rubbed his chest with one hand as he spun the wheel to head the car down a back road. “She forgets I’ve known her from high school. I know how shallow she used to be.”

Buffy’s pale brow furrowed. “You told me I wasn’t shallow.”

He stepped on the gas. “I lied because I loved you.”

A wicked smile slid across Buffy’s face, her nails ticking against the dashboard. “You don’t love me anymore?”

“I love you but now you’re old enough to handle ugly truths,” he said, catching a hint of an angry flash in her eye and quickly added. “But you aren’t that shallow anymore.”

“Someone’s buying roses before this day is through.” Gunn snickered, scanning the dilapidated buildings going by.

“I was thinking expensive jewelry,” Buffy said, lightly.

“I take it back, you are still shallow.” Angel smirked in the darkness, grateful for even a minor break in the unrelenting misery and anxiety.

Gunn put a hand between Buffy and Angel, catching the playful slap heading Angel’s way. “No more messing with the driver.”

Buffy shrugged. “Good point.”

Angel pulled up to the curb a block off the church. Once parked, Buffy slapped him and got out of the car. “Should we leave the car here?”

“No choice,” Gunn said, casting another wary glance at the urban jungle, expecting wild cats at any moment. “One place is as bad as the other in this neighborhood.”

“This way,” Angel said, taking off down the street. 

“Don’t tell me you can actually smell him from here.” Buffy’s legs had to churn to keep up with Angel’s long strides.

“I think maybe it’s him.” Angel’s nostrils flared. “It’s very faint.”

“There is something so gross about this.” Buffy made a face.

“Gross but if it gets us there....” Gunn trailed off.

Buffy looked at the boarded up buildings, wrinkling her nose against the sour smells that cloaked the area. She didn’t know how Angel could bear to be taking long, deep sniffs. “This almost makes me wish for a Hellmouth.”

“If you have a yen, we could move to Cleveland.” Angel shot her a smirk over his shoulder.

“Last time I was there, the snow was up past my knees, so no thank you.” Buffy shivered. 

Angel put a finger to his lips, pointing down an alley. The jocularity was shelved as they all went on alert. Angel led them to what had to have been a posh townhouse once upon a century ago. Buffy recoiled from the stench that roiled out as Gunn eased the door open. She caught the pained look in his eyes and figured he had to be remembering his own homeless days. Had it been as bad as this? She didn’t want to know.

The foyer was crowded with garbage and a path couldn’t really be seen through it. Gunn started into the home but Angel stayed him with a hand across his chest. He pointed into the strewn rubbish. 

“Traps,” he whispered.

Buffy and Gunn stared, barely able to pick out the trip wires in the mix of food wrappers, paper, cans and vile stuff Buffy didn’t want to think about. Their eyes tracked the wires to their connections to piles of boxes stacked along the walls. Whether the boxes would just tumble down with an alarming crash or if they held things that would hurt intruders, no one wanted to find out.

They followed in Angel’s footsteps, literally. He took them into a large room where a jasmine-scented candle fought to beat back the stale stench. A blackened spoon, a strip of leather and a syringe lay next to it. They were barely able to pick out Angelboy from the ragged bedding he huddled under on the decomposing couch. A lean tortoise shell cat was curled up on his hip.

“Angelboy,” Angel called out softly.

The young man woke, his hand moving. The team retreated, hearing metal sliding on wood. Angelboy sat up, a long blade in his hand. Holding the military knife, fire in his eyes, Angelboy finally looked like the son Angel had given up. The predator was still in Angelboy, even though it was currently fighting past the net of narcotics that ensnared it. “What are you doing here?” There was nothing friendly or inviting in his tone.

Angel resisted the urge to sweep his arms out to protect his friends, shoving them behind him. They’d never forgive him but it was hard to fight instinct. “I’m sorry, Angelboy. We didn’t want to intrude.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have,” a feminine voice chimed in.

The trio turned at the new voice and found themselves cut off from the front door by five kids, two girls and three boys, all of whom were armed with something. The dark-skinned girl who had spoken looked ready to stab without asking questions.

“Misty, put it away,” Angelboy growled, dragging to his feet unsteadily, his blade still exposed.

She looked at him uncertainly. “They’re on our turf.”

“They’re the ones trying to help find Lian’s killer,” Angelboy said, crossing over to Angel’s party.

The girl looked at them suspiciously, not lowering her weapon. “Why they here?”

“I’m going to find that out. You guys go somewhere,” Angelboy said, waving with the knife. “Now would be a good time to do it.” No one moved. His eyes went feral and the kids tensed. “Misty, Darts, I wasn’t kidding. Howler, Tin Man, Pan go on, get out.”

Angel watched the kids intently, feeling Buffy moving next to him. She was ready for an attack but he knew she was hoping it wasn’t coming. No one wanted to hurt kids. At least now they knew who Misty and Darts were. Angel was surprised Angelboy hadn’t named the other boys before, though Tin Man sounded familiar. Either he had been protecting them from Kate or truly believed they had nothing to do with Lian and Amaya’s deaths.

“We ain’t going far,” Darts said, curling her lip at Buffy.

“Just holler,” one of the boys, an unfortunate child with an afro of red hair, said.

“I’ll be fine, Pan. But I appreciate it. You three, get in here,” Angelboy said, flopping on the couch. No one else was brave enough to sit on the furniture. The cat climbed back in his lap. “What the fuck you want?”

“Little testy, ain’t you?” Gunn crossed his arms, looking down at the younger man.

“Got reasons. Two Two’s looking for me.” Angelboy scratched in his beard with his free hand.

“You don’t have to worry about him,” Buffy said. “He was arrested. Kate said a dealer turned him in.”

Angelboy looked up at her and snorted. “Good. You came all this way to tell me that?”

“No,” Angel said, inching closer. “Why was he looking for you?”

Angelboy gave him a warning look and Angel stopped moving. “I traded my new dealer that black tar shit for my usual. One of Two Two’s lieutenants came into the bar at the same time. He told Two Two I was dealing.”

“So you called Kate,” Buffy said.

“Shut up!” Angelboy snarled, pointing the knife at her. Buffy’s eyes widened, realizing what she had blurted out.

“He isn’t gonna want the lost boys and girls to know about it,” Gunn said.

“I wasn’t getting shanked by that fool over a few bags of smack,” Angelboy’s lips curled. “Now tell me why you broke into my home.”

“You know two of Amaya’s friends, Tricia and Leda,” Angel said. 

“Yeah, what of it?” Angelboy put the knife back under the couch, and then stretched out. He seemed relaxed but Angel knew he could be up and defending himself in an instant.

“You never mentioned it,” Buffy said, moving closer to the door.

“Didn’t see any reason to get them in trouble. What? You think maybe they chewed Night Rain apart? They’re spoiled kids looking for a little wild fun. I told her no way. I don’t touch minors.” Angelboy’s face went grim. “I don’t let no one do that if I can stop it.”

Angel shot him an approving glance. “Amaya wrote about you in that diary you gave us. She wrote about them meeting you.” 

Angelboy turned on his makeshift bed, trying to get comfortable. “So? Did she say I touched them? Cause it’s a lie.”

“She said you didn’t want anything to do with them,” Buffy said, hunting for a spot that didn’t stink. The hallway leading deeper into the house smelled worse than the foul room she was in.

“Problem is, man, they wanted something to do with you,” Gunn said.

“So? Ain’t my problem. They’re not gonna wear me down or trick me into anything,” Angelboy said. “Or does it bug you the girls wanted me? Lots of people do...well, used to. Some still do. Women, men, I’m pretty.” He grinned crookedly, holding up his bony arms. “Or I used to be. Ain’t so pretty no more.”

Angel flinched, trying not to let it show how much it was killing him to be here, to see his son like this. “That’s not the problem. You told us Amaya had been more violent last time you saw her but she wrote the violence had been getting worse for some time.” 

“If I confess to letting her hurt me for fun, will you get the fuck out so I can enjoy my buzz?” Angelboy smirked.

“That’s the least of your worries.” Gunn took a step closer.

Angel couldn’t bear to be there a moment longer. He had to end it. Standing in the flop house, looking at the ruination of his son was like tossing his undead heart into a blender. “Angelboy, the reason Amaya wanted you to party with the girls was so she could get you tied up so they could practice torturing someone to death.” 

Angelboy stared at him, and then shook his head violently. “No! No, no, no.”

“I’m sorry,” Angel said, sincerely sounding it.

Angelboy sat up, reaching for his candle. He gazed at the flame for several long, silent moments, and then screamed wordlessly, tossing the candle across the room. Luckily, the flame went out before it hit ground. Wax splattered everywhere. He got to his feet, tears streaking down his face. “Why? Why would little girls like that want to kill me?”

“Because they could, for the fun of it,” Angel said, wishing he could have put heart into it, to give comfort but he knew it wouldn’t help. It would only make his son more suspicious.

Angelboy’s breath rasped in and out as he wiped his face. “So it comes down to this. I’m worth nothing more than a cheap thrill. I don’t even rate as high as a puppy. Think those girls would plan out killing a fluffy puppy?” Angelboy didn’t wait for them to answer. He took off, pacing around the room. Buffy was instantly reminded of Angel, and she didn’t know why other than the pacing. “I’m something to fuck with. Break me, who cares right? There’re hundreds more just like me. Not like anyone would miss me.”

“That was what they were thinking,” Gunn said, moving out of the way as Angelboy’s pacing crossed his orbit. “And that’s why we came to find you. We had to warn you.”

Angelboy laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, thanks. I never knew...how does it come to this?” He sagged back down, huddled in a corner. “How can you sink so low?”

“We should get you out of here.” Angel started toward his son.

“No!” Angelboy put his back to the wall.

“Look, these girls could...” Buffy said but Angelboy cut her off.

“They’re kids. I can handle myself. This is my home. I’m not going to be chased out by high schoolers. They’re your responsibility. You handle them. I’ll change the entrance into this place, trap the one they know about.” Angelboy looked past them, standing up. “How’d you get past the front door? No one is supposed to be able to do that.”

“You aren’t quite as good at setting traps as you think,” Gunn replied, harshly. Angel wondered if he was trying to shake Angelboy into action.

Angelboy snorted. “I’ll fix that. You handle those girls. I don’t want to hurt them but I will if they come here.”

“I’ll make sure they don’t,” Buffy said, holding a hand out to him. He turned from it.

“Good.” He dragged a hand through his long hair. “Maybe you should go now.”

“There were two more killings. Think we can talk about them since we’re here?” Angel said, feeling ham-handed. He didn’t want to talk about this. He wanted to grab his son and take him far away, take him some place safe where he could heal and be whole again.

Angelboy shook his head. “Don’t know nothing. Didn’t know anyone else had died. I can’t do this now. You send Gunn and Dawn tomorrow.” He waved a hand at Gunn. “You know where. I’ll talk then. I gotta be alone right now, ‘kay?”

Angel shook his head. “I understand. We’re going to get those girls help.”

“Maybe Lorelei can do it.” Angelboy pressed against the wall, looking at his feet. “She was nice.”

“I’m sure she’ll help them,” Buffy said with a gentle smile.

“Let me show you out just in case you ain’t as good at avoiding traps as you think you are.”

Angelboy led them into the house, past shut doors where they guessed his housemates lived, taking them far too close to a bathroom that was little more than a bucket and waste paper. Buffy tried not to gag at the stench and fought back a scream as roaches scattered in front of her. She’d rather face a vampire nest than a single disgusting roach. He took them into the basement and pointed out a crack in the wall. “Through there. It’ll take you into what’s left of the house next door. Not enough there to squat in so you’ll get out okay. No surprise junkies or nothing.”

“Thanks. Be careful,” Angel said, touching Angelboy’s shoulder.

For once, Angelboy didn’t flinch. He nodded, looking scared and defeated. “I’ll be okay.”

Angel watched him go back up into the house but couldn’t watch until his son was gone, not with Buffy pulling him forcefully out of the house. His son would have been better off living in Quor-Toth. At least there he was a feared predator, probably a ruler in his own right. It would have been better than being a shell of a man with no real life, just a meager, ugly existence. His moody silence lasted until long after he arrived back home.


	9. On a Pale Horse

CHAPTER NINE

_Someone told me love will all save us._  
But how can that be, look what love gave us.  
A world full of killing, and blood-spilling  
That world never came.  
 **Hero - Nickelback**

Angelboy picked up the candle he had tossed. It was dented and chipped, the wick coated with wax. He lit it, plopping back on the couch. Ratter crawled into his lap. He heard his friends shuffling at the entrance to his door. He wanted to leave them there, ignore them. He couldn’t believe that Amaya had wanted him dead, had planned it out with friends. If he was lucky, the police would have found his body. He didn’t want to die like that. His life had to be worth more, had to matter somehow. Tears welled and he fought them back.

“Angelboy,” Darts said softly, coming into the room. “What’s wrong?”

Angelboy tried to push his emotions back into their cage. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” Howler spat, thumping a hand on the door frame.

Angelboy looked into the Hispanic boy’s tired face. Howler was uncharacteristically terse. The boy was known for nonstop talking, usually at the top of his lungs. “It doesn’t concern you.”

“People break in here, and it’s everyone’s problem,” Tin Man countered, his lips skinning back.

Angelboy considered that. Out of all his kids, he felt Tin Man had the most potential to be saved. He wished the boy had stayed with Anne. Tin Man was skittish around other men, given how his father had used him as a punching bag until the day he caught the kid paging through his sister’s _Playgirl’s_. That was when his father tried to kill him, a damn ten year old boy, and the kid ran off to become the Tin Man. “You’re right. We need to go change the entranceway.”

Angelboy pushed past them, heading back into the rank basement. He looked around at the trapped points of entry trying to decide which was the least noticeable. He’d open that one up. He could almost hear them asking questions of him but so far no one dared actually vocalize anything.

“We heard everything, you know,” Misty said finally, getting in his face.

“I figured as much.” He paused at an entry way that would involve them ducking to get through. He pulled the trap out. “Howler, you’re the biggest. See if you can fit through there.”

The boy gave him a dirty look but did as he was told.

“Ain’t ya worried about someone trying to kill ya?” Pan asked, running a hand through his carrot top. 

“Worried, yes. Panicked no. Those people will take care of those girls.” Angelboy gestured at the entry way, observing his kids. Howler was shuffling around in the entryway. Tin Man shook with fear, probably over having two strange men in the house. Darts’ eyes said she was just as scared of them. Misty held her body stiff with tension. Angelboy hated this disruption in their lives. “And if they don’t, at least the girls can’t come back in the only way they know was clear.”

“I can fit,” Howler said. 

“Good, fix up the traps on the other entryway,” Angelboy ordered.

“How’d they even get in?” Darts trembled. “You didn’t bring ‘em.”

“No, I didn’t. Not every trap is foolproof, Darts. We do our best. They were better.” Angelboy shrugged, trying to ignore the increasing fear he saw in Tin Man. “I’m going to try and get some sleep. If you go out, just be careful. The killer that took Lian from us got two more today. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“We ain’t going anywhere,” Misty said, defiantly. “You need someone to watch your ass.”

The other kids echoed her sentiments with rowdy ‘hell, yeah’s.’ Angelboy smiled. “Thanks. You know, tonight, I’ll sleep better knowing none of us are out there in that mad man’s way.”

“What about the girls after ya?” Pan cocked his head at Angelboy, looking like a red dandelion. “You gonna do something about them?”

“What would you suggest?” Angelboy asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Protect yourself,” Misty growled, shoving him.

Angelboy shook his head. “You ain’t talking protection. You want me to kill them before they come for me.”

“Fuck yeah, safer that way.” Howler leaned back on the wall, cracking his knuckles.

“No, it’s not. Anyone think killings the way can pack up and get out of my house,” Angelboy said, hotly. 

They all looked chagrined, some more than others. “We just want you to be safe,” Darts said, touching his arm quickly. For her, that tiny touch was a giant hug.

Angelboy relaxed a bit. “I appreciate it. Howler, get that doorway fixed up please.” He dragged back to his room. The candle guttered from the breeze blowing in through the holes in the windows. He put his heroin kit into his coat pocket, and then stretched out on the couch wearing his coat. Ratter curled up with him. He knew he’d never sleep but he could pretend.

He didn’t count on the kids coming back into his room, scraps of bedding in their arms. They all had some sort of weapon; most all of them always slept with one just in case. He hitched up on one arm, gazing at them. “What are you doing?”

“Camp out,” Tin Man told him cheerily. “They have to get through us if those bitches want you.”

Angelboy laughed. He knew this wouldn’t last but he’d accept it for the time being. “Thanks.”

They settled in and chattered for at least an hour before they started nodding off. Angelboy was almost asleep in spite of himself when the boxes in the front entrance clattered to the ground, startling them all awake. Angelboy came up with his knife.

“What the fuck?” Misty murmured, rubbing sleep from her eyes, going for her butterfly knife with her other hand.

“Damn, they’re here,” Howler said, clutching his bat.

Angelboy saw the silhouette in the doorway. There was no doubting it was female but it wasn’t the girls. They didn’t have curves like this.

“He was here,” the intruder said. “Where did he go?”

“Who, dust head?” Pan asked.

The woman was across the room in one leap. Angelboy saw her swipe at Pan with one hand. His cry turned into a gurgle. He fell, clutching his throat. The smell of blood penetrated the room. Darts shrieked and Tin Man scuttled back, gagging. 

“Get out, everyone!” Angelboy screamed. “Run!”

Angelboy charged the woman with his knife. He had to give his kids time to run for their lives. He scythed the blade through the air as she ducked under his swing. She hit him in the face. Angelboy went down, grabbing her arm. She pulled free. She had on some kind of weird sweater that felt like animal fur. Her nails had to have blades glued to them or something because they slit his skin like a scalpel. Blood ran down his cheek and dripped off the end of his chin.

Angelboy hissed, shaking his head. He couldn’t remember ever being hit so hard. He heard Misty screaming for the bitch to get away from him. He saw Howler swing on her with the bat and she caught it, whipping him against the wall so hard his head made a sound like a coconut under the wheels of a truck. Misty tried to stab her even as Angelboy was getting his feet back under him. The woman snared her, sinking her teeth into Misty’s throat.

“No!” Angelboy plunged his knife into the stranger. She roared, literally reminding him of a wild cat but he was too late. He could see Misty was dead. Darts and Tin Man were making for the front door. “Keep running!” he shouted at them, and then grunted as the woman turned her little knives against him. He felt blood pouring down his belly. If he hadn’t leapt back at the last second, he didn’t doubt his intestines would be around his knees. He scooped up Howler’s bat with his free hand and brained her with it. She only went down to one knee.

Terrified, knowing no normal woman could have withstood that, Angelboy, forgetting his knife, hit her again, breaking the bat and then ran. He paused just long enough by Howler to see there was a skid mark of brains down the wall. There was nothing he could do for his friend. Angelboy ran for the door, slamming it shut behind him. He shoved the boxes in front of it, knowing it wouldn’t hold her long. He darted for the door to the street and tripped on something that meowed loudly. He grabbed Ratter up on the run, clutching her to his chest, trying not to stab himself with his own blade.

Angelboy spotted Tin Man and Darts three blocks down. They had stopped running, already winded or waiting to see if anyone else made it out. He pushed himself as fast as he could. He joined them under the half-dead street light. Their eyes were wild. They took one look at him and backed away. Angelboy saw they were afraid of him. They had seen him fight, at least a little. He didn’t know where his own violence had come from.

“We can’t stay here. She might follow,” he said, trying to move them along.

“The others?” Tin Man asked, shaking so hard he nearly fell over. Darts couldn’t even look at Angelboy. He could smell her fear. He didn’t know how he knew that’s what it was but he did. This felt familiar, fighting felt like homecoming. It terrified him.

“Dead,” Angelboy snapped. “And we will be, too. We have to run.” 

Angelboy herded them, pushing them on for another four blocks. There was no sign of the killer. He rooted in his pocket and pulled out some of the money he had lifted from Angel and his friends when he was at the school. He shoved two twenties into their hands. “Take a cab to Anne’s. Stay there tonight. Tell her what happened. She has some strong friends. I’ll meet you there tomorrow.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Darts asked, clutching at him.

Angelboy took a step back, shocked she had touched him. “Someone has to lead that bitch away from you two.” 

“You don’t have to do that, man. Just get in the cab with us,” Tin Man said, pulling Darts away from Angelboy.

“Look at me. I’m covered in blood. You two aren’t. Go. The cabbie won’t think twice. Right down there, in front of the strip of bars, there’s always cabs,” Angelboy instructed. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Promise?” Darts asked. She seemed more scared that he might come than if he would leave her on her own.

“Promise.”

Angelboy watched them go. He waited for his attacker but no one came up the street. She had to be able to follow him. He could see the trail of blood he had left on the cracked sidewalk. Angelboy lifted up his shirt, shifting Ratter to one side. Four long claw-like marks cut the width of his belly. They were still oozing but they didn’t look deep. He could feel the cuts on his face.

When he was convinced the killer wasn’t following him, Angelboy headed for the Los Angeles River. ‘ _What a laugh_ ,’ he thought as he tossed the knife into the dark water. It wasn’t a river. Maybe once it had been. Now it was nothing but a giant storm drain cutting through the city. Turning the fussing Ratter on her back, Angelboy started his way towards the Hyperion.

The sky had begun to lighten by the time he got there. He felt weak. He was barely able to put one foot in front of the other. His vison swam. He needed to fix, and he could only imagine how much blood he had lost. Putting Ratter over his shoulder, he thumped on the door frantically before trying the lock. It held firm, and he didn’t want to just break it. He pounded harder.

The door opened to a young Hispanic woman he had never seen before. Her eyes opened wide, seeing a tattered, bloody young man on her doorstep. He shoved past her before she could shut the door. She stumbled back and Angelboy saw Buffy and Angel racing down the stairs.

“He forced his way in,” the woman blurted, looking to them for help.

“It’s okay, Candelaria,” Buffy said, jumping the last few steps. “Angelboy, what happened?”

“You’re hurt,” Angel said, coming over to him. He tried to get a good look at him.

Squirming free, Angelboy held tighter to Ratter who had decided she had had enough of being held. “What did you bring into my home?” he asked hoarsely.

“What?”

“She broke in. She wanted to know where you had gone.” Tears started streaking down his face. “She killed them all. She killed...” He almost went to his knees, the last of his strength deserting him.

Angel caught hold of his shoulders. “Who killed who? Your kids?”

“She bit out Misty’s throat...had to be the one who killed Night Rain, had to be,” Angelboy muttered, feeling hysteria setting in. “Not one my delusions, couldn’t be. Look.” He lifted his shirt. Candelaria gasped. Buffy made a worried sound.

“Candelaria, go get Willow. Wake up everyone,” Buffy ordered. Candelaria nodded frantically, and then darted upstairs.

“Ratter has blood all over her,” Angelboy said, suddenly realizing how tacky his cat’s fur was. He didn’t know why it mattered but he couldn’t let it go.

“Let’s get you up to one of the rooms,” Angel said. “You can put her down there. We’ll clean her up, and you can tell us what happened, the best you can.”

Angelboy didn’t argue nor did he move. Angel took one arm and Buffy the other and they led him into an elevator, and then down the hall and into a room. If it wasn’t for their support, he knew he’d be on the floor. Buffy shut the door, and Angelboy took Ratter into the bathroom. He dumped her in the sink and poured water over the yowling beast. He needed to see the water run clear, not pink. Buffy took his hands, stilling them. 

“Let me take care of her. Angel will help you,” she said, gently.

Angelboy let the older man lead him back into the other room. Angel tried to get him to the bed but he went to the floor and stretched out there, holding his belly. Angel squatted next to him, examining the wounds.

“They’re not deep,” Angel said, his calloused hands leaving Angelboy’s stomach to go to the slashes on his face.

“They hurt,” Angelboy moaned, trying to push away from Angel but couldn’t.

Angel tried to pin Angelboy down to finish his examination. “I don’t doubt it.”

Buffy came back out, shutting the bathroom door, cat scratch marks visible on her arms. “She’s fine. I dried her and we’ll leave her in there. How is he, Angel?”

“Exhausted. Hurt but not as bad as it might have been,” Angel said as Willow came through the door.

Angelboy couldn’t talk, couldn’t bring himself to face what had happened. He let Willow work, answering her in monosyllables as the others filtered in. Finally, Kate arrived from somewhere. He didn’t even want to know if they all lived together. He sat up, holding a hand out to her. “She killed them all.”

Kate sat on the floor next to him. “Tell me everything. You said this woman came for Angel.”

Angelboy’s brow creased. “She broke in and said, ‘he was here.’ Where is he or something like that. Then she attacked. Misty, Howler and Pan are all dead. Darts and Tin Man, I put them in a cab to send them to Anne’s.”

“Did she have a gun? Did you get a good look at her?” Kate pressed.

Angelboy reached for his battered face and Willow took his hand away. He sighed, and then looked over at Kate. “No. We don’t have electricity. The candle was out. She was short, maybe Buffy’s height but with real curves. She was wearing something odd like a fur coat but it didn’t feel thick like one. Does that make sense? And she must have had knives superglued to her fingers or maybe on gloves ‘cause she tried to gut me. Willow can tell you.”

“Later,” Kate said, gently. “Did she say anything else?”

“No. She bit out Misty’s throat, just like a wolf or something.” Angelboy swallowed hard. “Maybe she’s still there. I stabbed her then hit her with a baseball bat, and she still didn’t go down. She must have been on Angeldust or Sherm or one of those drugs that make you strong and not notice pain.”

“Tell me where this house is,” Kate said and Angelboy gave her the address. “Where’s the knife you stabbed her with?”

“Ditched it,” Angelboy said. “Didn’t want blamed for this. You need a scapegoat.”

“You’re a victim,” Kate assured him. 

“Left the broken bat there. Stupid.” He scowled as Willow tried to tape the gauze over his fuzzy cheek. 

“I’ll send someone around to collect your other two friends,” Kate said. “They might need protection.”

“Pan, Misty, Howler all gone.” Angelboy’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Angel. “It’s all your fault. She was there looking for a man. You’re looking for her. She probably knows it. You led her to us.”

“No, we didn’t.” Angel crouched down to Angelboy’s level. “We didn’t even know it was a woman, Angelboy,” Angel said.

“Fuck off.”

Angel rocked back to his feet. Buffy and Willow looked grim. Kate, used to this sort of attitude, took it in stride, though she glanced at Angel as if expecting him to lose it.

“Okay, I think he needs to get some rest,” Willow said. “Kate, do you need anything more?”

“That’s enough for now. I need to get out to the scene,” Kate said. “Angelboy, you have to stay here until we can talk more.”

“I don’t think I can move,” he replied, his fingers trailing over the soft gauze on his injured face.

He let Willow and Gunn help him up. He bobbled on his feet. For a moment, he thought he’d puke. “Are you all gonna stare at me, cause I want out of these bloody clothes before I get into bed.”

“We’re gone,” Buffy said, reaching for Angel. He shook his head. She shrugged and headed out.

“I’ll need those clothes,” Kate said, “All of them including the boots so put them outside the door.”

“But I don’t have anything else,” Angelboy moaned.

“I’m sorry but forensics will need them,” Kate said not sounding particularly apologetic.

“We can get you something to wear,” Angel said.

“Whatever.”

Angel hung back as Kate left. “Do you need help?”

“Not from you,” Angelboy snarled, taking off the tattered shirt.

“If you do, Giles’ room is only three doors down,” Angel said in defeat.

Angelboy got a sulky look on his face. “Thanks.”

Angelboy watched him go, barely was able to strip. He threw his clothes into the hallway after removing his works and heroin from his coat which he hid in the bathroom. He didn’t want to give up because he knew he’d never see it back from the cops. He stood on the dresser and pushed up the ceiling tile. After hiding his dope and needles there, he got into bed after letting Ratter out. The disgruntled cat stalked the room as he lay in bed, weeping.


	10. Repercussions

CHAPTER TEN

_Well, contempt loves the silence_  
it thrives in the dark,  
the fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart  
They say that promises sweeten the blow  
but I don’t need them... no I don’t need them.  
**My Skin - Natalie Merchant**

 

Angel caught up with Kate and Buffy in the lobby. Willow was telling the detective something. “Kate, wait up.”

Kate turned, her blond ponytail swinging. She looked incredibly tired. “Yes?”

“Take Buffy with you,” he said, even though he suspected that was already in the works. “If Angelboy hurt this thing, you might need back up.”

“Just until my partner and the crime scene unit gets there,” Kate said. “I can’t have civilians around after that.”

“Let me get some weapons,” Buffy said, touching Kate’s arm for emphasis.

Angel closed the gap between Kate and him before Buffy could move. “Is he a suspect, Kate?”

“I can’t say until I get out there, Angel. My gut says no or else he’d be in the jail infirmary right now going through withdrawal.”

“Understood,” Angel said, grimly. 

“Are you sure he wouldn’t be better off in jail?” Buffy looked from Kate to Angel and back again. “Or protective custody or something? If he didn’t do this, and he’s telling the truth then he’s a witness. Shouldn’t someone be looking out for him?”

“We can’t put everyone in protective custody.” Kate sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “And I certainly can’t ask for a protective detail based on our theory there’s a demon killing kids. We have to be his protective custody, and I do want you to try and keep him here until I come back. I will need to take a formal statement from him, and if I don’t have to hunt him down, I’ll be much happier.”

“I’m worried about how much blood he’s lost. Willow, shouldn’t he go to the hospital?” Angel caught her shoulders gently.

“Sorry, Angel. You can’t force someone to go to the hospital. It’s against the law to treat a patient who refuses. If I try, I’m the one going to jail for assault and battery.” Willow shot him an apologetic look. “I’ve done all I can for Angelboy. He’s refusing further treatment. In fact, I’m going to go type up a chart for him stating that. It’s not like I expect him to sue me later if complications set in, but he was a lawyer once. A doctor can’t be too careful. I’m citing all of you as witnesses to his refuse in my notes.” 

Kate nodded her understanding and consent.

“Okay by me. Let me get my weapons, Kate and we can get out of here,” Buffy said.

Angel watched them go before heading into the library with Willow on his heels. All he wanted to do was go back upstairs to check on his son. He knew Connor’s wounds would heal but Connor was terrified out of his mind. Angel wanted to comfort him but he didn’t know how to do it. He could see that his son was furious with him, as irrational as it might be.

“What are you going to do with him, Angel?” Giles asked as Angel flopped down numbly on the couch next to Cordelia and Xander.

Angel let his head fall back against the couch and Cordy patted his arm. Everyone was in the library at this point except for Joshua. Even Candelaria, one of the Watchers who lived in the hotel, the only one not currently away on assignment, was there. She looked irritated that she was the only one who didn’t know what was going on. In his defense, Angel knew it was next to impossible to find Candelaria most of the time. She, along with Doyle’s ex, Harry, were busy documenting the breeding habits of demons. Lorne’s people were the current topic and Candelaria was reclusive when she got busy. Angel realized that he had no idea about Lorne’s sexuality nor did he care to. If Lorne’s heart was in his butt, Angel didn’t even want to think about where his testicles - if his kind even had them - might be.

Angel studied their expectant faces. He wished he had valid answers for them. “I honestly don’t know. He seems pretty convinced I have something to do with the murder of his friends.”

“That’s silly,” Willow said.

“Not necessarily,” Gunn said, and she looked over at him, surprised. “If Angel and I were the only two men to come by that house, it’s reasonable to think we’re the men the killer wanted.” 

“He could have been more polite to Angel,” Fred said, leaning against her husband.

“Angelboy doesn’t live in a polite world.” Gunn kissed her cheek.

“And he is in shock,” Angel said, placatingly. “And to answer your question, Giles, Angelboy can stay here if he needs to. I don’t want to just put him out on the street, especially if he’s right and our probe into this caused the deaths of his friends.”

“Here?” Fred asked, looking towards the ceiling. Her forehead wrinkled. “Our families are here.”

“I don’t think he’ll be any threat to Joshua. He was very concerned about the boy finding his drugs,” Angel said. “And I doubt he’ll be here long. He doesn’t trust us.”

“Not to mention our students are trying to murder the poor bastard,” Robin added. Angel flinched. Seeing his son hurt, smelling his tainted blood, Angel had nearly forgotten about the Slayers who wanted to torture the young man to death.

Fred glanced around at her friends, gauging their expressions. “I guess for a few days it should be okay. It’s not like we don’t have dangers here on a normal day.”

“Thanks, Fred,” Angel said with more emotion than his friends were used to hearing. “Willow, do you think he’ll be okay physically?”

Willow made that sharp little head bob he had long ago associated with her enthusiasm for life and things she cared about. “I should think so. The wounds were bloody but not deep. He’d be better off if we took him to the Watchers’ hospital but like we just talked about, he didn’t want to go. No surprise really, that trust thing, not to mention he’s in shock.”

“And he’ll be wanting to fix,” Lorelei said, glancing up from where she was rubbing Giles’ shoulders. “That’s his coping mechanism, and he was obviously jonesing.”

“If he stays with us, is there anything else you might be able to do for him?” Angel hated himself for asking. It would only make his friends wonder why he cared so much for a stranger but he couldn’t help it.

“Like what? I don’t think he’s looking to kick his habit,” Lorelei said.

“I was thinking more like making sure his wounds don’t get infected.” Angel couldn’t sit any longer so he dragged up to his feet. “Do you think that he could eat a little better if you gave him something? Are there pills that can help?”

“I could get him to drink protein supplements, maybe,” Willow said, flipping her gaze between Lorelei and Angel. “I can try but we’re putting the cart before the horse. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s gone before noon.”

“Good point. I don’t want to try to keep him here if he doesn’t want to stay. I definitely feel that Gunn and I should stay away from him if we can help it,” Angel said, starting to pace again. “He’ll probably relate better to Willow and Lorelei. Kate wants us to keep him here until she gets back from the crime scene.”

“Tall order,” Gunn said, leaning back and draping an arm around Fred’s shoulders. “What do you want the rest of us to do?”

“Use your judgement,” Angel said. “Giles, I’m assuming you, Lorelei and Robin will be talking to those two girls today.”

“Yes, though we’re still unsure of how we’re going to handle this,” Giles replied, rubbing his forehead.

“Understood. The rest of us have our usual work and we can all pitch in to see if we can point out a path to follow in our investigation. I’ll be up in my suite for the next few hours,” Angel said, casting a baleful eye at the sunshine that was just peeking over the horizon, colored blue by the stained glass window that dominated the library.

“Here, Angel.” Xander hefted up some books. “Giles said these might be the place to start looking.”

“Thanks.” Angel collected the three books Xander had offered up from the pile. 

“Angel, before you go, we do have some other news,” Dawn said. “It kinda got lost in all the excitement.”

Angel cradled the books. “Yes?”

“Oz got in touch with me,” Willow said, obvious relief on her face. “He’s in Nova Scotia trying to help a pack of werewolves learn to control their urges. He was nowhere near this.” Her whole body relaxed as she said it, as if she had believed he might somehow be involved. “He doesn’t know of any werewolves, outside of himself, who have enough mastery over their change that they could go all wolfy without the moon.”

Angel mulled that over. “Okay, so it’s probably not werewolves. We suspected as much but it’s good to know. Anything else?”

“Wes called to check in. Cleveland’s Hellmouth is being well, hellmouthy. Spike sprained his ankle,” Dawn said, and Xander tried to smother a chuckle. 

“Dare I ask how?” Angel couldn’t help smirking.

“He and Faith were trying to get the ghost of a pissed off cadaver who I guess didn’t think it was time to be dead out of the Ohio College of Podiatric Medicine, and the ghost knocked him down the stairs. I think Spike forgets he’s human now,” Dawn said, sounding slightly amused.

“Well, where better to have a sprained ankle than in a training center for foot doctors,” Angel said. “Anything else?” He almost dreaded asking.

“Nope. Not even a vision from Cordelia,” Dawn said, and Cordy pouted.

Angel just nodded and headed upstairs. He stopped by Connor’s room on his way up to his suite. He heard faint sounds coming out of the room. At least his son was still there. However, the acrid smell leaking from around the door told him Connor was doing exactly what he didn’t want him to; shooting up. Angel knew he couldn’t prevent it, at least not at the moment but that didn’t stop him from wanting to snatch Connor out of the room and bang him into a locked down rehab unit. 

Instead, he headed to his rooms and worked on how futile it was trying to find a killer that chews on its prey. There were too many. Angel tossed himself into bed, trying to sort through his tangled thoughts, wishing he could have gone with Buffy and Kate, wishing he could wind back time again and save his child, wishing he had the courage to tell Buffy everything. For the first time in a long time he felt like Liam again, out of control and living down to everyone’s low expectations.

X X X

Angelboy woke with the sun pouring into the room. As he crawled out from under the covers, he cursed himself for being a slugabed. It didn’t matter that he had a good reason to stay curled up on the hard mattress, his injuries not withstanding. He was emotionally and physically drained. The bed had been too comfortable. He wanted to return to it but he had to find out if Tin Man and Darts had survived the night. Worse, what if by sending them to Anne’s he had inadvertently led the murderer to more victims?

Angelboy went to relieve his screaming bladder and found Ratter had peed on the floor. He took care of his own needs, and then cleaned the mess. He caught his reflection in the mirrors as he scrubbed his hands in the hot water. Dark rings made him look like a raccoon. His long lank hair and scraggly beard only enhanced the image. Angelboy cast a longing glance at the shower but ignored his urges so he could examine his wounds.

He peeled the bandage off his cheek and examined the cuts that sliced through the lice-ridden hair on his face. They were puffy, weeping straw colored fluid. The four furrows over his belly seemed half-healed already, the edges red and puckered. All his injuries itched so he did what Willow told him to do; slopped triple antibiotic ointment onto gauze pads and taped them into place.

Angelboy stumbled out into the bedroom, looking for his clothing, and then remembered it was all gone. Cursing, he picked up the bed sheet and draped it around himself. He looked like a frat boy in a bright paisley toga. It was nauseating. 

“Stay here, Ratter,” he said, gently shutting the door behind him. When he got to the library, he felt more than a little exposed being in a makeshift toga in front of a roomful of strangers. It didn’t help that they all stopped and stared. At least most of them were people he liked, Giles, Willow and Lorelei. He remembered being friends with Dawn, how much he had liked her then. Somehow he still felt close to her even though it had been years since he’d seen her. It was Buffy and Gunn he wasn’t thrilled to see and Angel, whom he had taken a loathing to. He didn’t know why but it was visceral. At least the cop wasn’t there. Of course it was Angel who spoke to him first.

“Angelboy, how-” 

“Don’t talk to me,” Angelboy snapped, stabbing a finger at him, nearly losing grip on his toga. “Unless you’re going to tell me I just had one of my delusions and all my kids are okay. Of course me being delusional again wouldn’t explain the chunks I’m missing out of my tummy and face and the blood all over the place and me being naked ‘cause a cop took my clothes. Still, I’d be happy for this all to be part of the ongoing hallucination.”

“Do you often have delusions this vivid and violent?” Lorelei asked, coming over to him, looking deep into his eyes.

He dropped his gaze, shifting from foot to long, slender foot. “Not often but there are times I see the demons, usually vampires. I see them all the time, hell, at least twice a week. Last night was the worst though. I saw people being killed. That’s never happened before. In my real dreams it has but not in a delusion.”

“I wish we could tell you it was a delusion.” Regret weighed each and every one of Angel’s words. “It would be better than the truth.”

“My friends are all dead.” Angelboy felt like he was about to go down for the count. He felt Lorelei’s strong hand on his shoulder steadying him. He should have used his wake up dope but he didn’t want to waste his time on the initial high which usually kept him fairly immobile. He had to get to Darts and Tin Man.

“Except for your friends who got to Anne’s,” Giles reminded him as Angelboy wandered away from Lorelei. “Kate called us to let us know they were okay, and they did agree to talk to the police.”

“Really? Must be scared out of their minds. They’re okay, though?” Angelboy swooped up on Giles, eager for news.

“Yes, quite. They told a very similar story to yours,” Giles replied.

“Did I kill our attacker?” Angelboy’s blue eyes gleamed with hope. “I hit her in the head hard a couple of times.”

“There was only one girl’s body there. From the picture Kate sent us, it was Misty,” Buffy said, trying to be gentle. “You probably hurt your attacker but she isn’t dead.”

“Then why didn’t she come after me? I was moving slow and leaving a trail anyone could have followed.” Angelboy looked for a place to sit but he was too filthy for furniture so he flopped down on the throw rug.

“You could have knocked her out or stunned her,” Willow offered.

“I didn’t think...I can’t remember clear.” Angelboy shook his head, and then knifed his gaze at Angel. “What did you lead to my house?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she knows we’re investigating her, and she followed us to you.” Angel spread his hands apologetically, decidedly unhappy at that. “But she has to be ahead of us since we have no clues as to who’s doing this. If she hadn’t come after us, we wouldn’t even know it’s a woman...if it even is.”

“Why else would she show up on my doorstep so soon after you were there?” Angelboy ground a fist into the carpeting.

“You said she was really strong like she was on Angeldust. Could she have mistaken your place for a drug house?” Gunn asked.

“Maybe but I’ve never seen a junkie bite out throats and crush skulls.” Angelboy shuddered, his toga slipping off his bony shoulders. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“We didn’t knowingly put you in danger,” Angel said, taking a few steps towards Angelboy but stopped, getting another sharp look from him. “We came to your home to stop violence.”

Angelboy snorted, knowing Angel had a point but he needed someone to blame. His gut told him he had chosen the right target. He watched Angel jump, wondering about it. What made this man so twitchy around him? “Speaking of that, when can I expect your students to show up and finish me off?”

“Not going to happen,” Lorelei said. “I’m about to head to the school and I will deal with those girls. You have my word.”

“I have his, too,” Angelboy pointed at Angel. “I just have to figure out if I can trust either of you.”

“You said you liked me,” Lorelei reminded him.

“I do. It’s him I don’t trust.” He nodded at Angel with his chin, his long hair swinging.

“Angel hasn’t done anything to you,” Willow pointed out, her crystalline eyes slotting.

Angelboy shrugged, pretending her gaze didn’t make him nervous. “Sometimes you meet people and you know you’re gonna like ‘em. Others you see them and the warning bells go off in your head screaming ‘bad news’.” He turned from them. “I gotta see Darts and Tin Man.”

“Kate is on her way here to talk to you,” Buffy said. “She was planning to be here at one o’clock.”

“You could call your friends,” Angel offered. “We could take you to Anne’s later if you want.”

Angelboy’s lips skinned back.

“Please, you want to help Kate find who did this, right?” Willow said, quickly. “If you stay here, you can help her.”

“I’ll call them.” Angelboy kept up his glare at Angel but his tone softened in response to Willow.

“Good. Here’s a phone,” Dawn said, popping up to give him her cell phone. “And I have something for you.” She went over to a table and picked up a box with a bag of cat food on top of it. “Let me get you a bowl.”

“Disposal litter box? Food?” Angelboy’s eyes narrowed. Why?”

“Because she has to eat and do her business, right?” Dawn replied, cheerily. “Come on, I’ll walk up with you.”

“I don’t think Ratter’s ever had either.”

“Ratter?” Dawn smiled. “You call her Ratter?”

“It’s what she does.” He shoved his long hair out of his face. “She’s good. She shares.”

Dawn looked at him sideways. “You mean you and the kids...you eat....”

“Protein isn’t it?” He shrugged.

“I guess.” Dawn shot him a horrified look. “We’re going to need to get you new clothes. You can’t walk around like that.”

“I hid my coat but it really needs washing.” 

“We didn’t think you’d be up so early or we would have had clothing ready for you. Dawn can get you fixed up,” Angel said.

“I think I have some old jogging pants you can have and a shirt. You’re too thin for the men’s clothing we have around here,” Dawn said, trying to make him get up but he was still on the floor in a heap of paisley.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked as she loomed over him.

Dawn touched his bare shoulder, feeling how dry and dehydrated his skin was. “Because we were friends once. Because you need help.”

His flesh twitched at her touch. “People don’t just help without wanting something.”

“Sure they do,” she argued. “You help those kids, and you don’t want anything, do you?”

“No, but we’re alike, street people.” His voice went steely. “Normal people walk across the street to avoid us. They don’t help.”

“Anne does,” Willow reminded him.

“You can trust us, Angelboy. I know that isn’t easy for you. All we want from you is to help as best you can to find this killer,” Buffy said, trying not to sound exasperated.

Angelboy shrugged, getting up, nearly losing his grip on the toga. “We’ll see. I don’t know if Ratter will know what to do with this stuff.” He took the litter and food from Dawn with one hand, cupping it to his sunken chest. “But thank you for thinking of her.” 

“You stopped to help your pet in the middle of all that crazy stuff.” Dawn offered an encouraging smile. “The least I could do was get her some food.”

“I appreciate it, and I’d be thankful for the clothes. I don’t think the toga is doing much for me.” He managed a weak grin.

“Angelboy, wait a moment,” Willow said, getting up. “Let me have a look at the wounds.”

“I just rebandaged them.” He pouted.

“I’ll be careful.”

He stood still as she peeled back the dressings, eyeballed the wounds and resealed the tape to his skin. “They look good, really good,” Willow said.

“I thought they looked red and ugly,” he said.

“That’s to be expected,” Willow replied. “They’re fine. Later, I’ll give you a more complete physical.”

He nodded and followed Dawn upstairs. She stopped at her room and found him a pair of jogging pants spattered with paint and a shirt in the same condition. “Sorry, these are my art-making clothes. They’re a little messy,” she said, heading for his room.

“Better than a bed sheet,” he said.

“Yes, you are a little lost in there, aren’t you?” Her blue eyes twinkled.

“A little, and I’m fairly sure no one wants to see me naked.” His lips split in a wide, almost maniacal smile.

“Maybe not but you do have an air of pathos around you.” Dawn took a long appraisal of him. “If things weren’t so crazy right now, and you in such a terrible place losing your friends, I’d want to make art out of you.”

He wondered if she meant it or it this was some kind of weird come on. He figured it had to be the former. No one would be attracted to what was left of him. “Been a long time since someone said that about me. Haven used to like to use me as a model.” Connor thought for a moment, and then added, “So did you for that matter, I guess. I’m not sure I want to see the art you made from me back then. It would be too sad.” He went into his room. Ratter meowed imperiously at him. 

Dawn scowled. “I forgot the bowl for Ratter.”

Angelboy shrugged and went into the bathroom, and then poured a line of food on the floor. He pulled the lid off the litter box and wedged it between the tub and toilet. “She’ll live.”

“I should get back down there for the brainstorming. You’ll want privacy to call your friends,” Dawn said.

“Thanks. What time is it?”

“About eleven. You have a couple hours before Kate gets here,” Dawn said. “And Angelboy, I’m very sorry about your friends.”

“Thanks.”

He watched her go before slipping into her clothing. Sadly, it fit him well, if not a bit long in the sleeves and legs. He called the shelter as he stood on the dresser. He pushed up a ceiling tile and removed his heroin kit from where he had hidden it. “Hello, is Anne there? Tell her this is Angelboy, please.”

As he prepared his heroin, a small amount, just enough to take off his edge but not enough to really send him on a heavy nod, he spoke first to Anne to thank her for watching out for his kids. He spoke to Tin Man and Darts, listening to them cry as he fired heroin into his veins. He cried with them and made them promise to wait there for him. He couldn’t talk to them long. It was too agonizing. He set the cell phone on his borrowed bed and went outside into the hall. He listened at the head of the stairs. They all appeared to be in the library still. He heard Joshua playing in the lobby. 

Angelboy had to explore. He had to know if Hotel California was the one from his dreams. He wasn’t sure if he could sneak past them into the basement to see if there was a cage so he went upstairs to see if anything else resonated in him as part of his delusion come to life. He found himself in the penthouse suite. The door to it wasn’t locked so he opened it. He could smell Buffy’s sweet perfume wafting out, something that reminded him of cotton candy. It made him want to eat her up, and he didn’t even like blondes. He recognized the musky scent as Angel’s. He stood in the doorway, wondering who had the exquisite taste. Knowing he shouldn’t go in, he decided that Angel had cost him his home, his friends’ lives so he had no right to bar Angelboy from doing whatever the hell it was he wanted to do.

He went inside. To his right was an entertainment center with a large plasma screen TV surrounded on either side by wooden columns that were actually cd and DVD holders. To his left was a colonial U-shaped bench in front of what had to be a salt water in-the-wall aquarium that was several feet long. Only salt water fish had that much festive color.

Angelboy went in and sat on the Corinthian leather sofa. He pressed his face against it, drinking in the smell of leather mixed with Buffy and Angel’s scents. The leather was like butter and he didn’t want to get up. He picked up a remote off a glass tabletop - set on a base of wrought iron dogwoods so realistic he thought he could bend down and smell the blossoms and listen to the bronze birds twitter - and turned on the TV. Leaning on the arm of the couch he glanced over at the leather love seat and at the Japanese Koramu lamp between them. Their simple square shapes, the Asian aesthetic appealed to him and he had Haven to thank for that. She had taught him all about Asian art. The warm walnut framing the bamboo textured creamy shade made him miss her suddenly.

On the table was a glass ecosphere with tiny brine fish living out their ephemeral lives in a globe of water for the amusement of Angel. Of that, Angelboy had no doubt. This room was too orderly, too structured for Buffy. She was more full of life, ebullient and spontaneous, or at least that was how he saw her.

Angelboy got up and went to the fireplace not far from the entertainment system. It had a splendid beveled glass fireplace screen in front of it mixing panes of clear and frosted glass in a floral pattern. To one side of the fireplace bundles of iron reeds, sheathing pillar candles smelling of sandalwood, shielded the firewood holder from sight. He turned and headed to the aquarium. An octopus oozed out from behind some rocks and surfaced. Angelboy watched the jeweled fish dart out of its way. It squirted water at him.

“Oh, you have to be that asshole’s,” Angelboy said, wiping salt water from his face. Between the aquarium wall and the wall of books that ran behind a bar, a French door led out onto a porch. Angelboy went out, letting the sun bake his cool skin. Weak from blood loss, he had felt chilled since he was nearly gutted. This helped. He studied the wooden _saan chao te,_ the Thai Spirit House birdfeeder that hung from the eaves, enjoying its rolling lines, and then went back in.

The bar was well stocked, the bottles hidden from sight behind the bar. At one corner, by a stool, sat a wooden Chinese vegetable basket and silk Buddhist prayer flags were draped above the bar. What had Haven said they were for? Carrying compassion to the four directions and returning blessings. He tapped the tiny brass bells that hung between the flags.

Behind the bar were shelves of books, and booze and glasses. Angelboy helped himself to the single malt scotch, thirty year old Glenfidditch. As he let the amber liquid pass his lips - to mingle in his body dangerously with the heroin - he studied the serenity chimes at one end of the bar. He picked up the rosewood box and turned it over, shaking the hundreds of tiny steel beads inside to the top, and then turned it over setting it back on the bar. The beads slowly fell in random, melodic patterns, sometimes striking the bells alone or in chords. He would like one of these to go to sleep by.

On the other of the bar was a perpetual calendar by Gideon Dagan. He had seen its roundish original in the Museum of Modern Art. Haven would have loved this place. He hadn’t realized she had had such a profound effect on him. Taking his Glenfidditch for a walk, Angelboy heading for the hallway. At the doorway was a misty picture of woodlands on one said and Kanji lettering on the other. Too bad after all the anime he had watched, he still didn’t know how to read the language.

He wandered down the hall to the far end of the suite. He eyed the Jacuzzi greedily. He didn’t dare with the open wounds but he wanted to. He headed back to one of the rooms he bypassed, the bedroom. This was Buffy’s refuge. It was bright and cheery and the huge king sized bed was calling his name. _Fuck ‘em both. If they had left me alone, my kids would still be alive._ Angelboy stripped and got under the covers. He set the clock so he could have an hour nap. He might get caught but he didn’t really care. He snuggled down and looked at the wall sculpture on the opposite wall. This was Angel’s addition to the room. Simple square lines yet again with nine cups holding oversized tea lights like falling rain drops captured in steel.

He took his nap sans interruption, and then tore off his dressings and got in the shower. The honeysuckle body-wash woke him up, made him hungry for sweets. He toweled off just barely and headed into the living room. He tossed his damp, naked body on the leather sofa and pitched the towel on the love seat. Angelboy turned on country music television just because he sensed it would drive Angel nuts when he saw it.

After he was done wallowing around, fucking the place up as much as he could, including stuffing peanut butter into him, leaving the dead jar on the bar, he went to throw up the too-rich food. He flushed it away but leaving it for Angel to find was tempting. He dressed and headed back down to his room to get more dressings for his wounds. He gave Ratter a pat, picked up Dawn’s cell phone and went downstairs.

Kate was waiting for him. “There you are. We were just looking for you. You weren’t in your room.”  
“I was exploring.” He twisted his damp hair, wishing he had a tie-back for it.

“Exploring?” Buffy asked, shooting Angel a worried look. Angel’s eyes were like marbles.

“Exploring. I don’t want to talk here, Kate. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know on the way to Anne’s. Can we do it that way?” Angelboy asked.

“Only if you’re willing to talk on tape,” Kate said.

Angelboy looked at Buffy and Angel, and realized what kind of hell he’d catch when they found out he had flopped in their suite. He knew he’d be better off elsewhere. “I can do that.”

“Deal. Let’s go,” Kate said, and Angelboy followed her willingly.

 

X X X

 

Buffy wheeled on Angel. “He was exploring. And his hair was wet. Why was his hair wet?”

Angel winced. “He has a shower in his room...but maybe we should check that out. The rest of you just keep at the research.”

Angel motioned Buffy to follow. He tracked his son right to his own door. He dreaded opening it. He could hear the music thumping out of the room. It was something Lindsey would dance to. Buffy shoved him aside and went in. He heard her breath catch and braced himself for a beating.  
“He was in here, Angel. Your filthy junkie was in here.” The pitch of her voice could make ears bleed. “You could have let Kate take him in last night but oh no, you had to give him a room.”

“He was hurt, Buffy.” He captured her shoulders soothingly. Buffy jerked away.

“And he could have gone to the hospital.” She went in and screamed. “There’s butt prints on the couch!”

Angel looked in horror at that as he snatched the wet towel off his precious leather love seat. How many times had he yelled at Buffy and Cordelia for putting wet stuff on his leather furniture? Dawn and Willow were just as bad and now there were definite butt prints on the couch. Buffy had already moved on to the empty peanut butter jar. He looked at the Glenfidditch bottle on the bar, leaving sticky rings of wasted scotch.

Buffy disappeared from view but he could easily find her by the shriek. He went into the bedroom. Buffy had one arm outstretched, pointing. Angel saw the rumpled sheets and knew he was dead, deader than he already was. “He was in my bed, Angel. That flea-bitten, lice-infested creep was in my bed. I don’t care what he knows or who’s after him, he can’t stay here. Protective police custody is good enough.”

“No, it’s not,” he said weakly.

“Lice in my bed, Angel,” she said. She was so calm Angel knew he was standing in the eye of the hurricane. “He was in my shower. It smells like puke in there. I don’t care what arrangements you have to make to keep him safe, as if that were possible. He’s his own worst enemy, just get him out of here.”

“No, he’s not going,” Angel said more strongly.

Buffy stared at him, not expecting his defensiveness, and then reached for the phone. “Fine, I’ll call Kate myself and arrange it.”

He caught her arm, jerking her away hard. Buffy pulled free, her mouth open, stunned at his violent response. He caught hold of her again, more gently this time. “Please, Buffy. I can’t explain but I have to keep him here. He’s our responsibility. Our Slayers are out to torture him to death.” Pain radiated over her face at that, and he thought he was winning her back to his side. “We may have led a demon to him. He doesn’t belong in jail. He belongs somewhere where he can get treatment. I’m not turning him out, and I’m not letting anyone else do it, understood?” Angel watched her eyes go to dual chips of ice and realized he pushed too far.

Buffy stared at him for a long moment, and then shoved him back. “Fine. Clean this place up. Burn the sheets, the towels, whatever else he touched that can be burned. And then, and only then I’ll decide if I’m still speaking to you.”

Angel listened to her slam her way out of their home. With tears in his eyes, he started to clean.


	11. Act of Contrition

CHAPTER ELEVEN

_I never once, backed down from a punch._  
I’d take it square on the chin.  
Well I found out fast a bully’s just that,  
You’ve got to stand up to him.  
‘Cause I didn’t cry when I got a black eye,  
As bad as it hurt, I just grinned.  
But when tough little boys grow up to be Dads  
They turn into big babies again.  
 **Tough Little Boys - Gary Allen**

Buffy felt drained of anger when she returned to her suite. She was savoring the emotions of embarrassment for going off like she had and frustration that Angel wouldn’t confide in her. She didn’t need protection but she could never quite convince her lover of that. She also knew he’d get afraid that she’d stop loving him. She didn’t know how to break him of that phobia other than to keep loving him the best she could.

The penthouse welcomed her with the strong scent of sandalwood candles and soft music, Mozart maybe. Buffy could never remember the composer’s names. Classical music was more Angel’s forte. All the sandalwood votives in the holders near the fireplace were lit. Was he trying to set a romantic, make up mood or was this to pull him out of his funk? Seeing him coming into the living room, Buffy decided it was probably a little of both. She wasn’t prepared for the fear in his eyes. She could count on one hand the times she had seen him afraid, and this was one of the worst. Again, she agonized over what could be tearing him up.

“Buffy, please sit down. We need to talk.” 

Seeing both the leather love seat and the sofa were still gleaming with the treatment oils Angel had rubbed into them, Buffy sat on the wool rug in front of the fireplace. She sensed he needed something closer, more intimate than a bar stool. Only Angel refused to sit. He started his usual pacing. There were days she wanted to kneecap him. “Angel, please tell me what’s tearing you up inside. I’m sorry for going off like I did. I shouldn’t have done that.” She reached out to him.

“You had every right,” he said, not slowing down. “I keep trying to tell you this, and every time I get so afraid of what you’ll think...what you’ll do. I try to talk, and the voice inside my heart says she’ll be gone for good if you do.”

Buffy got up and caught hold of him. “I love you, Angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

He shook his head, pulling away from her. “It’s not just you. It’s everyone. What I did effected them all. What happens when they learn about it? I’m not sure I’ll survive being cut off from my friends, not this time.”

Buffy couldn’t catch her breath around the thundering of her heart. Her hands turned to ice. She had no idea what he was talking about. What had he done that could possibly have touched them all without her having a clue? The time Willow turned her into Joan swam up from the depths of her memory. Buffy knew there were spells that could rape memory. As useful as magic was, Buffy knew how quick it could turn on the user. It was the reason she had frowned on Dawn learning magic, for all her sister had listened to her. Had bad magic happened to Angel? “Angel, what did you do? How bad could it have been?”

“It wasn’t meant to be bad. I was trying to save a life. I had the best of intentions.” His eyes were the size of eggs, glistening with contained emotion.

Buffy briefly closed her eyes, wishing it away. She already knew it was going to be bad. “You mean those things the roads to hell are paved with?”

He managed a self-deprecating smile. “You’d think I’d learn. My best intentions always blow up in my face.”

“Like the day you turned back,” Buffy said, gently. She willed him to believe her that she had forgiven him that. She shouldn’t have brought it up.

Angel went to the bar and gently ran his fingers over the prayer flags. “This was a lot like that, a big magic.” He fell quiet, taking up the rag he had used to polish the bar and started working again even though the wood was spotless.

Buffy came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him as she rested her cheek against his back. “You can tell me anything.”

He squirmed free again. “I’m going to tell you, Buffy. I have to but it has to stay between us. I know I’m putting you in a bad position. I don’t want you to have to keep secrets from our friends.”

Buffy caught his hand, pulling him back toward the fireplace. She forced him to sit with her on the long-furred wool rug. “I’ll keep your secret. But I have to know for myself. I can’t bear this, Angel, watching you tearing yourself up inside and knowing I can’t help. I can’t even figure out what’s wrong other than it started when we met Angelboy. Did he do something to you?” Not that she could imagine what Angelboy could possibly have done to hurt Angel.

“No.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong.” She ran a hand up his arm. “I need to know. It wigs me out knowing Dawn was friends with him once because I think she still sees him like he was back then and not as he is now. I’m not sure she gets he’s _dangerous_ now.”

Angel dropped his head, chin touching his chest. He wished he could argue that dangerous remark but he couldn’t. “You’re going to hate me.”

She kissed him. “I could never hate you. Even when you were Angelus, I still loved you and hated myself for it. I didn’t hate you when you gave back your mortality without even asking me. I was furious, yes, but I didn’t hate you. It took me a while to forgive you. I know you meant well but I would have wanted you to be human. You could have still helped me with the fight. Xander, Willow, Dawn and Giles do. Fred, Wes, Spike and Gunn do.”

“And you worry about them, try to protect them. It’s a strain on you.” Angel tried to struggle back to his feet.

Buffy held fast, and he gave up. She counted that a victory. She wasn’t going to have to chase him around the room while he wore ruts into the carpet. “I know and we’re not rehashing this fight. The point is, it was a traumatic thing to hear. Yes, I was furious but if I could forgive you that, I could forgive you most anything. I forgave you for killing Jenny and for screwing Darla and Eve. I didn’t like hearing about it, any more than you liked hearing about me and Spike but we got past it.”

Angel buried his hands in the thick wool of the rug. “It comes back to that actually, Darla, I mean.”

Buffy couldn’t have been more shocked if he had suddenly started singing ‘Pirates of Penzance” music while standing on his head. “How so?”

“I told you about trying to lose my soul with her,” Angel said, staring at the beveled glass of the fireplace screen.

“Yes and like I said, if I could forgive you trying that, what could you have done that you’re so afraid I can’t forgive?” She stroked his arm, and he flinched away. She felt tears wanting to form. It hurt her to see him like this. She hadn’t seen him this emotional since it snowed in Sunnydale. Even when she met him after being resurrected, his tears were ones of joy, not born of the agony she saw him in now. 

“I didn’t tell you everything about that time with Darla. There were complications,” he said.

“Like what?” She wrinkled her nose. “You didn’t lose your soul.”

“The normal kind of complication you might expect with sex.” Angel pressed his back to the hearth.

Buffy’s eyebrows raised. “Knowing Darla, that means venereal disease but you can’t get those.”

For a moment he merely watched the flames flickering on the candles inside the iron reed sculptures by the fireplace. She wondered what he was seeing there. “You’re right, vampires can’t. We can’t have living children either but we did, Darla and I.”

Angel’s eyes bore into hers. Buffy felt like she had no control over her body, most especially her gaping mouth. She wanted to laugh since the idea was so ludicrous but she knew he wasn’t lying about it. He was dead serious. Something crushed the air from her lungs. “Angel, th-that’s not possible,” she replied, her tongue not entirely listening to what her brain was telling it.

“I would have agreed. There were prophecies that I didn’t know about,” he said, and she made a disgusted noise. “I know, I had the same reaction. Darla shows up nine months pregnant, and I was...there aren’t even words for how I felt. Wes started looking up the prophecies. Darla was telling me about having to share a soul with this living child, how she wanted it gone but couldn’t abort it. The pregnancy was protected, nothing could end it or hurt Darla while she was carrying the baby.”

“Angel, this, this...I...” Buffy couldn’t make the words come. She felt disconnected from herself as she listened to him, totally unprepared for it.

“One prophecy said the baby would be a messiah to vampires, at least according to the vampires who came to worship the miracle baby.” Angel started plucking wool threads from the rug. “Wes found prophecies saying the child would end the world or save it. There were false prophecies. No one knew what to think.”

“And you never thought to call and ask Giles for help?” Buffy regretted the snap in her tone and tendered her voice as she caught his hands before her rug was plucked bare. “To tell me?”

“To be honest, my brain stopped working the moment I saw Darla. For all I know, Wes did call and Giles just didn’t tell you. It all happened so fast. There wasn’t time.” He still sounded bemused, Buffy decided, like Angel was still there staring at a very pregnant Darla trying to make sense of it. Buffy shuddered at the thought. “The baby was a normal boy, as far as the ultrasound was concerned and on top of it all, Holtz was coming to kill us.”

“Who?” Buffy felt like she had been dropped into a story mid-book.

“Long story. I’ll tell it another time.” Angel waved her off, and then tried to make a break for it. Buffy yanked him back by his belt loops. He sighed. “Let me sum it up with Darla and I murdered his whole family back in the 1700’s. He swore vengeance and managed to get brought forth to this century somehow. He was trying to kill me and Darla.”

“And you did something to him? We could forgive you if you hurt him,” Buffy grimaced, his story making less and less sense.

“No. While we were trying to figure it all out, Darla went into labor, only vampires aren’t made for that. By then Darla had been so touched by the soul of our son that she wasn’t thinking like a vampire. She was any ordinary woman willing to fight for the life of her child.” Angel caught Buffy’s hands. “She killed herself so our son wouldn’t die in that alley. As Darla went to dust, he was born in the pouring rain with just me and Fred there to protect him from Holtz who with his usual timing found us at our most vulnerable.”

Buffy’s throat was tight. She ran a finger over Angel’s furrowed brow. “Did he kill your baby?”

“No, and I would have let him kill me if he would only just let Fred take my son away safely. Holtz lowered his crossbow and let us all go. So there I was with my beautiful newborn son. I can’t tell you how terrifying it was.” He trembled.

Buffy leaned against him. “Why didn’t you tell me about him after he was born? There had to be time then.”

He rested his chin on her head for a moment, and then kissed her shoulder. “I wanted to. Part of me couldn’t wait to get in the car and drive him to Sunnydale to meet you. Part of me remembered our conversation after you were brought back to life. You had so much to get used to that you didn’t need me adding to it.” He put a finger on her lips. “I know you would have wanted to know. You don’t have to tell me. The real reason I didn’t tell you was I was scared to death Holtz would find and kill my precious boy. Wolfram and Hart were still evil then, and they wanted him. We didn’t know which prophecy to believe and, to be honest, I wasn’t ready to share him with anyone. I barely even let the others hold him or change him or feed him. He was mine, and I wasn’t letting him go.”

“But he’s gone now,” Buffy said, taking his hand from her mouth. “Did you think it was too dangerous to have him anywhere near this life? I know how frightened all of you are for Joshua. I don’t blame you. Did you give him up?”

The pain on Angel’s face punched holes in Buffy’s heart. “Not exactly. Wes was tricked by Wolfram and Hart into thinking I was prophesied to kill my son, and he kidnaped him.”

Buffy pulled away from Angel, rolling to her knees on the rug. “What? Why would he do that?”

Angel shook his head. “Somehow Wolfram and Hart got hold of my son’s blood, maybe from the hospital when Cordelia and the others took him in for his first checkup. I don’t know but they did it. They bugged the Hyperion. They were watching us, and they used my son’s blood to spike my pig’s blood. Maybe they knew it would have an effect on me, I guess they must have known. I was slowly going insane, Buffy, getting violent and irrational. There was something about his blood that affected me like a drug. Wes believed the false prophecy, the father will kill the son, so he took my baby. I never knew what he planned after that.”

“I can’t believe Wes took your son.” Buffy cocooned him in her arms, rocking him. “No wonder this has been so hard for you, Angel, seeing all these runaway kids, kids that were thrown away. What would he be now? Thirteen?”

Angel sighed heavily. “Something like that.”

“But why would you be so afraid to tell me, Angel? Why are you afraid the others will find out and turn on you? It doesn’t make sense.” Buffy feared it did. Angel had to have erased their memories like Willow had or else someone would have let slip a secret this terrible at least once in the last decade.

“Because I’m not done with my story. Justine, Holtz’s accomplice, found Wes. She slit his throat, stole my son and gave him to Holtz.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed. “Wes told me Faith gave him that scar when she tortured him.”

“That’s part of the big magic I was talking about. It affected everyone’s memory.” Angel tried to get up, and once again Buffy wouldn’t let him. “Holtz was on the run with my son, and he ended up in Quor-Toth, the darkest of the dark realms. My sweet little baby was trapped in the worst hell you could imagine.”

Buffy pulled his face against her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I can’t imagine losing a child, not like that.”

He pulled away, managing to get to his feet. He started around the room. “I got him back, Buffy. I tried to go into that hell but couldn’t. He found his way to me. Time moved different there. He was only gone days but he came back to me the angriest teenager you’ve ever seen. And why shouldn’t he be? His head filled with Holtz’s rage against me, knowing everything his mother and I had ever done, his body and soul permeated with the hellish energies of that place until Cordelia’s demon-self purged them free.”

“If you got him back, then where is he?” Buffy got up as well but she didn’t follow her pacing mate. She couldn’t address the rage issues. She couldn’t conceive that kind of pain. She didn’t want to.

She stood there, her legs getting weaker as she listened to a revised version of what really happened with the Beast, how Cordelia got pregnant, about Jasmine’s short life and death and how Angel had to face down his son wired to explode along with a nice section of mall. All she could think was, vampires might not need to breathe but they certainly choked and gasped like a mortal when they were trying hard not to cry.

“What did you do? This magic you did to your son and us?”

He headed out onto the balcony. Buffy followed him. It was just getting dark. His big hands clenched the railing. “I gave him what I couldn’t in real life. I knew that between me and Holtz, my son would never have a normal, happy life. We, in a word, fucked him up good. So, I had Wolfram and Hart remove all memory of him from everyone’s mind and rewrite history. He thinks he grew up with a loving family. He doesn’t know vampires are real.”

“You gave him up?” Buffy made him turn so he was looking at her. “You changed things so another family would love him like the monks did to us when they gave us Dawn.”

Angel dropped his gaze. “He was trying to make me kill him, Buffy. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have time to think things through. I agreed to work with Wolfram and Hart if they would do this for me and they did. I saw my son happy. I saw him going off to school in New York so full of promise, and I lost track of him but that was okay. I was overjoyed that he was safe and sane and had a whole life waiting for him.” Angel couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

“I don’t understand. Why are you afraid now that I’ll tell the others? Hearing about Angelboy talking about parents throwing away their children?” Buffy asked, leading Angel back inside. “That isn’t what you did, Angel.”

Angel pulled away from her. Buffy felt the rage in that movement, knowing it was directed at himself, not her. “Isn’t it? If that was the end to it Buffy, I wouldn’t be so upset now. But it’s not the end. I was lied to. My son did go to school in Notre Dame, and then New York but he didn’t have his whole life waiting for him. He was a Wolfram and Hart pawn just like me.” He slumped against the French doors.

“A pawn...Oh!” Buffy felt her stomach drop to somewhere on level with the basement. “Oh Lord, Angel, you don’t mean...it can’t be.” She started to shake uncontrollably. Everything crystalized. How had it taken her so long to figure it out?

“The spell didn’t work. I should have realized magic that big would have loop holes.” Angel smashed his fist into the door jamb so hard the decorations on the wall shook, water sloshed inside the aquarium. 

“Angelboy.” She couldn’t breathe. It had been a long time since she had felt this jelly-limbed. “He can’t be....”

“He’s my son, Buffy. I about died when Dawn called him Connor, to realize she had known him once.” Angel sobbed, burying his face in his hands. He bobbled, and Buffy thought he was going to collapse. “My beautiful boy is a homeless junkie turning tricks and robbing to keep himself high.”

“Oh, Angel.”

Buffy couldn’t make something more articulate come out of her mouth. She grabbed hold of her lover. She felt his legs go weak. Both of them went to the floor, holding on to one another. Buffy wept loudly for him and his pain. She didn’t know how long they let their emotions rule but by the end she felt exhausted, her eyes burning. She held so tight she thought he could slip inside her skin.

“That’s why I have to forgive him for trashing our place, Buffy. I did this to him, and I can’t make it right, no matter what I do. Even if I can convince him to go into rehab and straighten out his life, I can’t take this back. Oh, maybe I could with more magic but it’ll just find another way to screw up and bite us in the ass.” His head thumped back against the wall with a loud painful crack. 

“It’s not your fault, Angel. You didn’t have time to think it through.” She cupped his wet face. “You couldn’t let him kill Cordelia and those innocent people, and you couldn’t kill him.”

“I had him overpowered. All I needed to do was get him out of there and try to work things out but I took the easy way out. I wanted to make it better all at once, and this is my reward,” he said bitterly, wiping his eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” she insisted. “You gave him a good start. He’s the one who screwed it up. He didn’t have to take heroin. He wanted to. He did it to himself. I know you don’t want to hear that, and I know it doesn’t help, but you can’t take all the blame, Angel.”

“If I hadn’t done this, Buffy, he wouldn’t think he’s insane. He wouldn’t be driving out delusions of vampires and demons with drugs,” Angel countered.

“It doesn’t matter.” Buffy embraced him again. “I love you, Angel. And I’ll do what I can to help you make this right. Maybe no one ever needs to know the truth. He likes Willow and Lorelei. I can see it in his eyes. He might let them help him get clean. He can stay here as long as he needs to, even if it means I have to put up with a trashed penthouse from time to time.”

Angel hugged her back, nuzzling her neck. “You have no idea how special you are, Buffy.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, trying to smile. “I do have questions though, Angel. Don’t you think it highly weird that Connor could have carried Cordelia into the mall unconscious without being stopped? How did he subdue that many people alone and unarmed? How would he even know how to make a bomb? Pipe bombs aren’t too hard, Xander’s shown me how to do it. But how would someone with no education know propane explodes, let alone figure out how to wire propane tanks with electronic detonators. I can see the store having propane camping canisters but why would they have detonating devices?”

“I thought of that, Buffy, but not until afterwards. All I saw then was my son coming unglued.” Angel kissed her shoulder. “Later, I realized Connor had to have had help. Lilah was the one to show me the video surveillance so I’d go running to save him. She still has it. She’s the one who arranged the spell. She knows the truth. I realized that until then I wasn’t willing to work for Wolfram and Hart so they tipped the scales. They set me up. Connor probably went insane on his own. He did kill his own daughter and as necessary as it was, that had to destroy him. Wolfram and Hart knew this and they used it. I should have stopped him when he killed Jasmine, but I was too shocked over what he had done...still reeling from Jasmine’s spell.” Angel’s voice tightened and cracked.

Buffy’s brow furrowed. “So why are you still here working for them?”

“Counterintelligence. Wes, Fred and I have been working to gather intelligence on Wolfram and Hart. Wolfram and Hart think I’m blind to what they’re doing but I’m not. We haven’t fully trusted Gunn since we don’t know exactly what all was done to him when they gave him all of his law and language knowledge. It’s hard on Fred but even she sees the need. You and the rest of the Sunnydale crew have been kept in the dark as much as possible.”

“You should have told me, Angel,” Buffy said gently as she could. 

“These are huge secrets, Buffy. I didn’t know what you might do when you learned them.” Angel rested his forehead against hers. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You’ll have to try harder than that to make me go.” She smiled, ruffling his thick hair. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me, Angel.”

Angel let her hair play between his fingers. “Thank you.”

She caught his hands, kissing his knuckles. “Now what?”

He tried to settle himself. He took that deep calming breath that made him look utterly human. “Now we go back downstairs and see if Kate’s back with Connor.”

“Can I get a little angry with him?” She tried to look playful. “I mean, he’ll think it’s weird if I don’t yell at him for this.”

“You can yell. Of course, if he’s still true to himself, yelling will only make him do it again and worse.” Angel summoned up a smile.

Buffy snorted. “So your son’s a jerk?”

“Sometimes. Back when he first returned, I rationalized it as most teenagers are jerks. If we’re lucky, he’s grown out of it, and then I think of my dad and me and realized I never grew out of being a jackass. Connor used to live to irritate me. I think he has cellular memory of that.” Angel’s face took on a rueful cast. “He reminds me of Spike in that respect.”

“Oh good, we don’t need another Spike.”

“You’re telling me?”

“Angelboy looks like Dru and Spike’s kid, you know that?” Buffy said, wondering if she should bring that up. Would he be insulted?

Angel nodded. “I thought he might be Lindsey’s son. I’m not kidding. Darla was living with him.”

“That lawyer, the one I met once in Oklahoma.”

“That’s him. Short, blue eyes, Connor looks a little like him, but we knew each other instantly when he came back. There’s no doubting that connection,” Angel said, getting to his feet.

“And then there’s that sneer. I wondered why it looked so familiar.” A grin kissed her lips. Angel glared. “Yeah, that’s the look.”

“Not funny.”

Buffy let him pull her up. “I just hope he’ll want our help, Angel.”

Angel headed for the door. “Only one way to find out.”

They headed back downstairs. The hotel was empty except for Cordelia at the front desk and Lorelei who was obviously just getting back. 

“Cordy, has Kate called in?” Angel asked.

“Yes. She’s not coming back tonight and neither is stinky boy.” Cordelia said that with abundant glee.

Buffy gave Angel’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Did she say why?”

“She got his statement and was heading back to the police station to do detective stuff.” Cordelia shrugged with the air of someone who didn’t care. 

“What about Angelboy?” Buffy persisted.

“He’s staying with his friends at Anne’s. She can keep him.” Cordelia shuddered. “Kate said his friends were so upset that they didn’t want to let him leave. He’s spending the night. He’ll probably just ooze back wherever he came from.”

“Cordelia!” Buffy’s voice cracked whip-sharp, and she shot Angel an apologetic look. His expression told her he wasn’t taking Cordelia’s words to heart. Cordy was...well, Cordy. Any tact she might have learned in the early years of her L.A. experience died with the coma.

“Lorelei, what happened with the girls at school?” Angel asked.

Lorelei shoved a lock of her red hair out of her eyes, looking weary. “Nothing. Tricia’s kid brother was having a birthday party today. We had totally forgotten that. She’s at home with her family. We decided not to confront them alone. We’re keeping an eye on Leda while she’s at the school, and I don’t think Tricia would try anything from home. Besides, she no longer knows where Angelboy is.”

Angel ground his teeth in frustration, and then let his jaw relax. “Okay. I’m going to hit the streets, see what else I can find out about this murderess.”

“I’ll join you but I need to talk to Lorelei for a minute if she doesn’t mind,” Buffy said. Angel turned back to her, his interest peaked. Buffy didn’t offer him any clues.

“No problem,” the psychiatrist replied.

“I’ll wait for you,” Angel said, a little disgruntled at being left out. Buffy could see it in his eyes but he knew enough to give her space. “Cordy, why don’t you turn in for the night.” He put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, confused. He knew sometimes she forgot what she needed to do and required gentle reminders.

“But someone might call.” Her lips trembled like a child afraid she’d done something wrong.

“It’ll be okay,” he assured her, stroking her hair. “You’re tired.”

She smiled and got up. “I guess I am.”

Buffy let Cordelia pass her, and then followed Lorelei who headed up the stairs.

“Hope you don’t mind, we can talk in my suite,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m beat, too. Rupert is still at the school so we’ll be alone.”

“Good.”

Buffy always thought Giles and Lorelei’s suite looked like a subtle war was going on in it. Giles and Angel had the same tastes in many ways. They liked things orderly and simple. Lorelei was far more extravagant. While the suite was as feng shui-neat as hers and Angel’s, there were surprises like the red leather sofa and the bursts of color on the wall. Celtic decorations - the kind Buffy had expected Angel to go for instead of his Asian fixation - dotted the room and played hide and seek with Giles’ books.

Lorelei sagged onto her jewel-toned couch and gestured for Buffy to take the love seat. “What’s bothering you about Angelboy now?”

A rueful expression played on Buffy’s face. “How’d you know?”

“You’ve been uneasy about him ever since you’ve met him.”

Buffy frowned. What was she thinking in asking Lorelei to talk? She couldn’t tell Lorelei about Angel’s secret. She couldn’t even tell her that Angelboy made Angel nervous. Of course, Lorelei probably already knew it. “I’m just wondering, can he be helped? I mean, are we going to get anything from him or is he going to be a constant irritation?”

Lorelei leaned over, her elbows on her knees, her green eyes making Buffy uncomfortable. “I couldn’t say, Buffy, not without a further exam. If Angelboy is merely an addict, then yes, it’s possible to help him. But he talked about having delusions, seeing demons. There is a whole host of ways reality doesn’t jive with what’s going on inside his head. We’re guessing he saw Dru but that doesn’t account for him seeing vampires weekly unless he goes to demon bars and how likely is that? He’s told us he’s on disability for schizophrenia. Schizophrenics can’t be cured. They can be helped but they don’t ever stop being schizophrenic.”

“He just seems so in control...not as crazy as I imagine a schizophrenic would be.” Buffy held up a hand. “I know that if they take their medicine they can be normal but we know he’s not taking medicine.”

“He’s taking heroin. Heroin isn’t known to make you delusional but it does mellow you out. It’s not likely to make him worse. If anything, it’s controlling him in the short term.” Lorelei settled back, her sharp eyes reading Buffy’s face. “You think he’s a danger.”

Buffy didn’t want that to be true. For Angel’s sake, she wanted his son to be harmless, to be curable. She wanted to reach into that darkness and pull Connor back into the light. “I think he could be.”

“Why? Other than some hostile words, he’s shown no real signs of aggression, unless you count fighting back to save his own life.” Lorelei was unquestionably in therapist mode.

“True but drug addicts are unpredictable.” Buffy shrugged, trying to find ways of dancing around the truth and easing her own mind. “He could wig out.”

“He’s emaciated, Buffy. Even if he did lose control, pretty much all of us have more muscle mass than he does.” Lorelei rubbed her own shoulders, wincing when she hit a tender spot. Buffy got up and gave the older woman a quick massage. “Unless he makes it to the weapons cabinet and gets past the locks, which I’m betting he can do.”

Buffy couldn’t tell her Angelboy was as strong as a vampire. Of course, she was doubting he was that strong at the moment. Lorelei was right about him being starved looking. “I know.”

“Did he do something that I don’t know about?” Lorelei looked over her shoulder. “Something that has you worried?”

Buffy nodded. “You can’t tell anyone I told you, not even Angel.”

“Psychiatrists are very good at keeping secrets, Buffy. It’s part of our job.” Lorelei smiled.

Buffy snorted, sitting back down. “True. He trashed our suite this morning. Angel knows it was directed at him, and he didn’t want anyone else to know. I just need to know why Angelboy’s so dead set on blaming Angel, and if he’s a danger.”

Lorelei pursed her lips, her hand trailing on the red leather. “He needs someone to blame, Buffy. His world ended last night. Someone has to be accountable for that. He watched three of his friends die before his eyes. He was nearly killed himself. This, on top of losing Amaya and Lian.”

“I guess,” Buffy interrupted.

Lorelei continued as if she hadn’t. “Let’s not forget he just found out Amaya was about to betray and kill him. People into the bondage and domination scene don’t routinely expect to be killed. There is a level of trust in your partner.”

“But shouldn’t a...prostitute,” Buffy stumbled over the word, hating to apply it to Angel’s son. “Know there’s a risk of getting killed.”

“Do you honestly think Angelboy saw his relationship with Amaya as john and prostitute? It may have started that way but she was spending nights with him. She hung out with his friends and she sought his council,” Lorelei countered. “Her journal is filled with entries about him which is even more chilling because I think she did care for him but was okay with killing him in spite of it.”

“Sounds more like a regular girlfriend, except the killing part,” Buffy conceded. This was why she liked talking to Lorelei. The woman constantly challenged her to see things from many points of view.

“Which was the reasons he allowed Amaya the degree of freedom he did when it came to dominating him. He trusted her, and she betrayed that. This would put anyone in a tail spin and make them act out. Add drugs and mental illness into that, and we’re talking very treacherous ground. With that much pressure, I think even I would act out.”

Buffy shook her head. “I just don’t see you putting your wet, naked butt on my leather couch.”

Lorelei’s lips quirked up. “No. If I broke into your place, I’d bring Rupert and make use of that lovely hot tub of yours.”

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, waving her hands. “Stop it. No images of naked Giles.”

“It’s not so bad.” Amusement colored Lorelei’s face. “Older men know things but I don’t have to tell you that.”

“The thing I don’t get is why pick on Angel? He’s not to blame for this.”

“Not directly but Angelboy isn’t stupid, Buffy. He knows the dangers of the world he lives in. He feels responsible for those deaths. He was their leader.”

“Do street kids like that even think in those terms?” Buffy interrupted.

“Yes, to a point. From what I can tell Angelboy sees himself in the same way you and Angel see yourselves. You protect us, whether we need you to or not and if we get hurt you assume blame,” Lorelei said and Buffy made a face, knowing it was true. “Angelboy is in that same position. He’s much older than the kids he’s looking out for. I doubt they have any clue he’s nearly thirty. That would make him an adult, the enemy. He still looks barely twenty. He’s passing but they sense that he’s older, wiser. They look to him. He’s the father figure, the big brother, and last night he failed them. Forget that he had no prayer of stopping a demon. He doesn’t know that, and neither do the ones who survived. They’re still reaching out to him, holding him there when he should be in a hospital bed, recovering. He puts them first.”

Buffy processed that speech. So many words, no wonder she and Giles were such a good match. “If it wasn’t for the drugs and his unreasonable hatred of Angel, he’d sound like an okay guy.” 

“It’s not unreasonable, Buffy, not to him. Gunn said it as well. It’s too much of coincidence that she came right on your heels looking for a man. Now he should blame you, Gunn and Angel equally but he doesn’t. He’s picked out the leader, no offense to you or Gunn, but that’s why he’s turned his rage against Angel. Kids died horribly last night. If Angelboy hadn’t got involved with you, his friends would be alive. That’s how he sees it.”

“So he trashes my suite?” Buffy scowled.

“You took from him, he took from you.” Lorelei stretched. “We’re lucky he didn’t completely decompensate in your suite.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning after he trashed it, you’d find him curled in a ball in a corner somewhere, or in the tub with his wrists slit. Now that he’s calmer, he might feel remorse for what he did, which may be why he’s staying away,” Lorelei said. “Or else he might not even remember doing it. If he was in one of those dissociative fugues he’s mentioned, he could have trashed your place and not even know he did it.”

“Yeah that or he knows I’m gonna kill him so now he’s hiding.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed.

“He might be afraid of that, too, Buffy and not as the joke you meant it to be,” Lorelei said grimly. “He’s terrified. When he stops blustering, take a look in his eyes and you can see the terror. He’s out of control of his life, and he can’t abide that. Okay, who can but the point is most of us are never this out of control. He started self-medicating with heroin to wrest control away from his inner demons. He’ll be lucky if these events don’t push him into a psychotic break.”

“So maybe we shouldn’t be leaving him with Anne and all those kids. Maybe we shouldn’t let him back here.” Worry etched into Buffy’s face.

“You asked me if he could be helped. Do you really care about that?”

Buffy squirmed under the intensity of Lorelei’s gaze. “I do but I care about who he might hurt.”

“I think he’s far more likely to be self-injurious, Buffy. He’s submissive, at least to Amaya. She talked about him being gentle to the kids but hard on himself. Dawn told me about what she remembered from when she knew his girlfriend in school. He had disappeared a time or two and didn’t remember it. I haven’t spoken to him about it but those sound like fugue states. I’m not saying he couldn’t be a danger. However, I don’t think he is, in the light of what Dawn said about Angelboy’s former girlfriend being worried about him killing himself. He’s made allusions to that in the past few days. I think you have less of worry him hurting one or us than you do of him hurting himself.”

“So that brings us back to can he be helped.” Buffy hated what she was hearing. It sounded so hopeless. If Connor killed himself, Buffy didn’t know how Angel would cope.

“Potentially, to a point, yes. He believes people can be helped or he wouldn’t have sent those kids to Anne. He’s sent Tin Man there before, to help him off the street. He told us this. I think, properly handled, he might be reached. I’m just not sure we’re the people to do it. He doesn’t trust us,” Lorelei said.

Buffy nodded, getting up. “Thanks. I just...I was worried about Angel. I know that sounds silly, Angel being who he is and Angelboy being well....not much of a physical threat.” Buffy tried to sound light in tone all the while thinking, ‘hell boy.’ “I’d better get back down stairs. Angel will be pacing holes in the floor waiting to get out there.”

“No problem.” Lorelei got up as well. “Buffy, if you are truly worried about him being here, talk to Angel about it. He’s the one who really wants Angelboy around. I’ll be honest, I don’t feel threatened by him. Neither does your sister, Willow or Rupert. I think things will be all right.”

“I’m sure they will be,” Buffy said, thinking exactly the opposite. She let herself out and joined Angel, seeing the questions in his eyes, wondering if she should tell him what she and Lorelei had discussed. In the end, she simply distracted him with work.


	12. Lack of Faith

CHAPTER TWELVE

_That little boy quit tryin’_  
He just walked away   
There were teardrops on his face   
Tell me how would you feel   
You’d probably give up too   
If nobody believed in you   
**If Nobody Believed in You - Joe Nichols**

Angelboy shoved more bedding into the large laundry bags that would eventually get picked up and taken for a commercial cleaning. Anne had a deal with a nearby nursing home to use their huge washers and driers. The fee was minimal and in exchange, her kids volunteered at the home. It was good for the elderly and the teens.

Angelboy didn’t know how Anne had gotten such a gorgeous house for a teen shelter. She always feared someone would flake out one night and destroy it. He wished he was more accessible so he could help her. Runaways had problems with drugs, gangs and mental illness and that meant trouble that could erupt dangerously. He was good at handling that kind of stuff but Anne didn’t want drug use around her kids. He understood that and had tried to help out the one or two times he had gone straight but the demons in his head always dragged him back to the needle. He had left Anne’s briefly in the wee hours to go shoot up and was back before his kids could miss him.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Darts said, loading up a laundry bag.

“You should be in the hospital,” Tin Man said, looking very concerned.

“I’m fine,” he lied. His gut ached with every movement. He knew the wounds weren’t gaping open anymore but it still hurt. “Anne needs the help...you two need it.”

“I did yesterday,” Darts said, doing her best to look invulnerable. “And you were there. Even hurt, you came for us, and I don’t get it.”

“What’s to get?” Angelboy sagged against the laundry bag, shaking from exertion. His face itched. He gave into it and scratched under his bandage.

“Men aren’t nice,” Darts said, “They do what that bitch did to us.”

“Some men are okay, Darts. You and I have been all right, haven’t we?” Angelboy’s eyebrows lifted.

“Guys aren’t good,” she insisted, kicking at a bag. Her visage softened a tad. “You ain’t so bad, Tin Man either.” She made a face, looking at the ceiling. “Too many boys here.”

“I’ll take care of you, Darts.” Tin Man smiled, and she snorted.

“I’ll be the one saving you, Tin Man,” Darts replied, chucking a towel at him.

“You two take care of yourselves. I want you to stay here with Anne until things are safer,” Angelboy said, bracing for the backlash. These weren’t kids used to being in a safe place. 

“Why? We should just find ourselves a new squat.” Darts crossed her arms, taking a step back from her work.

“That woman came looking for someone. She killed most of our friends. We could run and hide or we can try to help the police and find a little justice,” Angelboy said, gently. He knew pushing Darts wouldn’t get him anywhere.

She tossed her head. “It’s not our problem.”

“Darts!” Tin Man hissed, horrified at her callousness. “We’ve already spoken to the cops, Angelboy.”

“I know and I’m thankful. Now they want my help, and I’m gonna try and give it to them. You two stay here, chill out, help Anne if you want.” He saw their panic and quickly added, “It’s safe here, I promise. Anyone bugs you, tell Anne immediately. She cares...a lot.”

“Okay,” Tin Man said. 

“I ain’t promising I’ll stay.” Dart crossed her arms, giving him a sulky look only a teen could muster up.

“You can only do what’s in your heart, Darts. I’m asking you to stay. If you can’t, I understand,” Angelboy said, using his eyes to tell her he wanted her to stay. She looked away.

“What if we need you, Angelboy?” Tin Man pulled the drawstrings tightly on a laundry bag.

“I’ll be at the Hyperion Hotel,” Angelboy said, hoping that was true. He knew his little episode might get him expelled. “Anne knows the number.”

“Why can’t you stay here with us?” Tin Man flopped on his laundry bag, looking up at Angelboy with huge eyes.

“Because Anne’s almost out of space. If I could, I’d bring you all to the hotel with me but that’s not my call.” If he didn’t get tossed out on his ear, he might even ask for sanctuary for his kids. 

“Okay, but I wish you could stay,” Tin Man said, giving him an imploring look.

Angelboy felt sorry for having to disappoint him. “I know. Come on, get up. Help me finish this job.”

The laundry cared for, Angelboy gave Anne two of the twenties he had stolen from Angel’s stash in the bedroom, and then he headed to the post office. His check still wasn’t in but a letter from his sister was. He took the remaining twenty dollars, bought himself a little tube of toothpaste and brush, and then caught a bus back to the Hyperion. He was hoping for the hotel to be deserted. He wanted to just go back to his room and nap before they found out he was back and tossed him out. He was exhausted, dizzy and in pain. He got only three steps inside when Buffy pounced.

“There you are.”

He winced, turning to face her angry eyes. “You...uh, told me to come back.”

“That we did but given that you trashed my suite, I doubted you would.” She was small but somehow she was incredibly intimidating.

Angelboy gnawed his bottom lip. “Yeah, kinda lost it there. Sorry.”

“Sorry didn’t clean my home.” She got up in his face. “And because I had to take time to clean my suite, my other work didn’t get done.”

“Sorry.” He backed down, actually sounding apologetic this time but he didn’t totally believe her. He had no doubts it was Angel who had been whipped into doing the cleaning. 

“So, instead you’ll be doing my work for me. You can sit down to do it so it shouldn’t be so hard on you.” Buffy’s eyes dared him to say no. 

“Whatcha have in mind?” Didn’t she see he was in pain? Didn’t she care? He was curious enough to suck it up and not let her know how bad he was really hurting. This wouldn’t be a tough assignment anyhow. She couldn’t be that mean, he decided. She already had something in mind that would be easy on him.

“I hope you don’t have a brown thumb.” Buffy beckoned for him to follow her.

“Used to grow pot back in law school,” he replied with flippant honesty.

She eyed him sourly. “That’s not what I had in mind. I promised Willow to plant her garden for her since it got destroyed a few months back, and she’s so busy seeing patients...anyhow, the sets are ready for planting and the roses are already out along the back wall of the flowerbed. You just need to put them in the ground. It’s all potting soil, easy to dig. Just a few weeds in the way. I don’t want to put a strain on your injuries.”

“Hurts like hell already, to tell the truth.” He decided to test her resolve in making him do this. “I was helping Anne with the laundry.”

Her brow furrowed. “Should you have done that?”

“No, but Anne needs help. The kids are supposed to but you know how that goes. I had Tin Man and Darts helping.” Angelboy shoved his long hair out of his eyes. “So, what am I planting?”

“Vervain, pennyroyal, peony, sage and honeysuckle, oh and roses. Willow calls it a power garden.” She looked him over, a bit of doubt creeping into her eyes. “You should be able to sit on the edge of the flower bed without putting a strain on yourself.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Buffy. If it’s too much, I’ll just not do it.” He smirked, watching to see just what might flip her on buttons.

“If it is, we’ll find another way for you to pay me back,” she replied, coolly.

He saw concern for him but also a resolve to make him repay his indiscretion. This was obviously not a woman to cross. Angelboy shrugged and stepped out into the bright sun. The seedlings and rose plants were waiting for him. He sat and looked up at her. “Any preference for how this goes?”

Buffy pulled out a slip of paper. “Willow wrote it all out.”

Angelboy took it but didn’t start digging. He stared at the list.

“Problems?”

“This is my only set of clothes.” He hated saying it. He hadn’t lived with normal people in so long, and he didn’t want to know what she thought of him. “They’re already sweaty from me lugging laundry. Now they’re going to get muddy.”

“We’ll get you more clothing,” Buffy said. “Do you want to take your package upstairs? What is it?” She suspiciously eyed the bag he had.

“Not drugs, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s a letter from my sister, toothpaste and brush. I don’t like being...well, you know.” He dropped his gaze, humiliated. He didn’t have the luxury about worrying about his appearance but here, in this place, he was feeling the self-loathing. “And I took the twenty I used to buy it from your place.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Told Angel we were short on cash. Why’d you take it?”

Angelboy blinked, shocked she wasn’t angrier. “Because I wanted this.” He rattled the bag. “And Angel is a dick.”

Her face reddened. Now she was mad. “He’s been very nice to you.”

“He’s your man, so you don’t see it.” He shrugged. “It’s just something I sense. Can’t do nothing about it now, right? I’ll work it off.” He dug the remains of the twenty from his pocket and gave it to her.

“Go ahead, take your stuff up to your room, do what you have to.” She touched his shoulder. “The garden can wait a few seconds.”

“Thanks.” Angelboy headed upstairs and brushed his teeth three times, and then put his sister’s letter on his bed. He shot up just enough to take off the edge, and then snared Ratter, taking her into the courtyard with him. Buffy was gone. He let his pet out to roam the walled enclosure.

He started tearing up the few weeds and began planting. It felt good to have his fingers in the earth, bringing life to something. For a very long time, he had been cut off from his artistic side and hadn’t realized how much he missed doing found-art sculpture until he got this chance to be something other than destructive. He took care with each and every seedling, keeping it up until he grew light headed and hot. He stretched out in the grass under an eucalyptus tree, letting his injuries catch up with him. 

He was nearly asleep when he heard someone coming outside. A quick sniff told him it was Buffy. He opened his eyes. She set a tray down, kneeling beside him. Worry was etched onto her face.

“Are you okay? Do I need to call Willow?” She touched his forehead. Her fingers were deliciously air-conditioner cool.

“I’m just taking a breather. I was getting dizzy. A little snooze in the shade of the eucalyptus seemed like the thing to do. It smells good.” Angelboy hiked himself up on one elbow. “You brought something to drink.”

Buffy glanced back at her tray that held a pitcher and some glasses. A sandwich sat on it as well, minus crusts. “Sweet tea. I spent some time in the south and got addicted to it. This has so much sugar it’s practically syrup, and I thought you might be hungry. Willow said PB and J would be good for you, lots of protein. I hate crusts so I cut them off out of habit. Hope you don’t mind,” she babbled, seeming a little nervous. He attributed it to her thinking he had died of heat stroke or something and it being her fault sending a wounded man out to work.

He smiled. “I don’t like crusts either and sugar is always good.”

“There’s a hose over there so you can wash your hands.” She pointed to a spot behind a garden fountain.

Angelboy washed up and took the paper towel she offered. Buffy had sat down under his shade tree so he joined her. She had poured them both some tea.

“Planning on keeping me company?” He took the tea, letting some of the sweet concoction quench his thirst. “Why?”

“Figured you might like someone to talk to.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, after what I did to you?” 

“Lorelei offered up some theories on that. Either she’s right or you’re an asshole.” She smirked. “I’m going to bet on Lorelei.”

“Thanks. It’s probably six of one, a half dozen of the other.” Angelboy pulled a small bit of sandwich off and popped it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. 

“Anne seems to think you’re okay. She called to make sure you’re all right.” Buffy’s expression softened. “She seemed to think you were pushing too hard.”

“She’s a good person. I like helping her.” Angelboy studied Buffy’s face, suspecting an ulterior motive for her company.

“She said you do it often.” Buffy scratched Ratter’s head as the cat rubbed on her briefly, and then went to kill a leaf.

“I try to help as much as I can. I really do.” He put another small bit of sandwich in his mouth, watching a shadow fall over the doorway. Angelboy saw Angel standing there in the shade. Buffy’s back was to him so she didn’t notice. Angelboy decided to say nothing. If Angel didn’t want to join them, so be it.

“I believe you. You care about Anne’s kids and the ones living with you. That’s what makes it hard to understand why you choose to live like this,” Buffy took a nervous swallow of her tea as if realizing that had been a little rude. “Or is choose a wrong word?”

“This is good stuff.” Angelboy took a long drink of tea. “I guess ultimately I chose to do this to myself. I didn’t just wake up one day and say ‘I know, let me shoot smack.’ I tried therapy, even when I was still in school, just a little. It freaked my parents out, told me how I’d be marked for life. They weren’t wrong. There is a ton of prejudice against those who are mentally ill. 

“I stopped therapy for a while, went back after the break down at Wolfram and Hart, tried the anti-psychotic pills. They were horrible. Clozaril destroyed my white blood cells and even if it hadn’t, I would have needed blood draws every two weeks to make sure it wasn’t. Zyprexa made me dizzy and sleep for eighteen hours or more a day. Risperdal was so horrible the only way I knew I was alive was the blinding headaches and vomiting. Another took away the delusions but made me drool uncontrollably and shake. Hey, I’m almost sane. The doctors said I could work again. I’m sure you want your lawyer drooling and twitching all over the place.”

Angelboy paused, seeing Buffy’s look of horror and pity. He heard Angel shifting around, obviously listening intently and dismayed at what he was hearing. “Seeing the demons was better than that. For a while, I did that but eventually I gave in to a guy who sold me some weed from time to time. I tried that first, weed and alcohol but it didn’t really work. Finally he said ‘give this a try,’ and I smoked a little heroin. It made me feel good, warm inside, peaceful for the first time since I don’t know when. Eventually I started shooting and most of the scary stuff inside my head went away and unlike the prescription drugs, I wasn’t sick all the time...just when I start to come down. But that’s better than what I felt like on Risperdal or the others. For a while I thought I can do this, control the dragon and get back to my life.”

“But control was an illusion,” Buffy said so contemplatively Angelboy thought she had to be thinking of something in her own life that made her sad.

He nodded, taking another tiny piece of sandwich. “I stay high now, all the time. Without the heroin, I have no peace and the demons win.”

“But you know this will kill you.” She looked honestly concerned.

He shrugged. He didn’t want to be touched by her concern. He didn’t want anyone caring about him. “No one cares about that anymore.”

Buffy looked away, and then down at his sandwich. “Angelboy, you don’t have to hoard that sandwich, you know. You can eat it all now.”

“Keep treating me this good, I might never leave.” He smiled, and she returned it. “I don’t eat much, Buffy. My stomach is about the size of a walnut. I don’t think it’ll handle it if I just bolt down the sandwich. I’m getting down as much as I can.”

The look of pity replaced the brief smile. Her concern all but resonated. “Your sister, the one who writes you, this has to be hard on her. Didn’t that ever make you think about going into rehab?”

Angelboy wondered why she was getting so personal with him. Angel was still hovering silent as a shadow. They both had unusual amounts of interest in him. Did they want something from him that they had yet to ask? Then again, they could just be that kind of people, the kind who took on projects, people to save. “I don’t let Shyla see me, not anymore. It was too hard on her. I know what I look like, a strung out little junkie. She doesn’t need to think of me like this. And to answer your question, yes, I’ve been in rehab. Shyla got my parents there the first time because it works best if you got a support system in place.”

“What went wrong? The delusions?”

He shook his head, his long hair spilling over his shoulder. “That came later. But my parents wanted nothing to do with my rehab. They had already written me off...stopped believing in me. I guess I didn’t blame them. They didn’t want my sisters exposed to my habits. They had thrown me out a year or so before since I was living with them. I couldn’t work with my disability. But I went through rehab anyhow and the delusions got so horrible I couldn’t...” His voice cracked and he tried to cover it with a few swallows of tea. “I just couldn’t and knowing no one believed in me anymore, it hurt too much. Shyla couldn’t save me on her own, and I told her I couldn’t see her anymore.”

“Sorry. I just assumed, you know, that you had a good family. I mean they sent you to law school in one of the most expensive cities in the country. I just thought you weren’t like the other kids you take care of,” Buffy said with more pain in her voice than he expected. “Guess I shouldn’t make assumptions.”

He was getting more confused. How long had it been since someone tried to care? He could see Angel’s face clearly, and the man seemed furious and agonized at the same time. It made Angelboy curious enough to continue the tale. 

“I’m not like those kids. I’m older, a lot older but my home is just as broken I guess.” Angelboy paused for a second hearing a soft, pained sound coming from Angel. He stared at the man for a moment, and then continued. “My parents are good people, Buffy, really. In comparison to most of my kids, I had it very good. The real heartache was how they didn’t help when it was obvious I needed psychiatric help back in school. All they could talk about was how it would look if anyone found out, how I just needed to stop being depressed and weird, to get my head out of the clouds. And I was naive enough to listen. Kathleen, that’s my older sister, was telling me to knock it off because I was making our parents fight. I guess it was my fault they were arguing all the time about from whom I inherited my mental illness, you know, the one I didn’t have.” Angelboy tried to not sound bitter. He did love his family, feeling that love deep down, but they had failed him as much as he had failed himself. “In the end, when I needed them the most, they abandoned me, everyone but Shyla.”

“Okay, that sucks.”

Angelboy shrugged. “They’re human beings with faults. I know they love me. They thought they were looking out for me. I was all the way across the country. They didn’t know how bad it was. I was an adult. I could have ignored their advice.” He had told himself this many times. It was the only way to cope.

“In my twenties, I know I still depended on my father...well, the man who came to be a father to me.” Buffy tried to sound supportive but he saw her own pain shining out of her color-change eyes. “My real father gave up some time back in high school.”

“Sorry. You mean Giles, right? The one you look to as a dad,” Angelboy guessed. “I see how you look at him. Dawn does, too.”

Buffy nodded. “You’re very perceptive.”

“For all the good it does me.” His voice rumbled with self-loathing. “Could I have more tea?”

“Help yourself. Try to eat more, please.”

“I think we need to find another topic of discussion if I’m gonna eat. This one is making me sad,” he said, taking another small piece of sandwich.

“Of course.” She looked contrite, almost apologetic. “I probably should be getting back inside and quit invading your privacy.”

“Before you do, have a look and see if the garden is right,” he said, gesturing at the garden. “There’s only one section I have left to plant. I didn’t want to weed that section because those aren’t weeds. They’re jasmine plants.”

“We don’t like them,” Buffy said quickly.

“Can I have them? I’ll put them in one of the empty flower pots. They’re my favorites,” Angelboy said eagerly. He knew it would be so much more pleasant than candles.

“Um.” Buffy glanced over at Angel, stricken. “I guess.”

“Oh, so you know he’s hiding over there.” He nodded at Angel.

“I can’t really come out in the sun,” Angel said.

“He has that disease, with the big long name, starts with an X,” Buffy said.

“Xeroderma pigmentosum,” Angel replied, shifting in the doorway as if uncomfortable about being noticed. “Any bit of light causes my skin to blister and crack open.”

“It’s ugly. He has to have UV blocked windows and all that stuff,” Buffy said, making a face. “Makes it difficult to get a tan.”

“But it doesn’t excuse me from eavesdropping...though I know you were aware I was standing here,” Angel added.

“It’s okay. I knew, didn’t care. Tell me, what did you guys do about the girls who were plotting to murder me?” Angelboy asked so matter of factly the lovers were taken aback.

“I’m waiting to hear from Robin on that. One of the girls went home for a birthday party. We wanted to deal with this when they were together,” Buffy said, and Angelboy scowled, not liking the delay.

“You’re perfectly safe from them here,” Angel said and off Angelboy’s dubious expression added, “I know you have no reason to believe that but it’s true.”

Angelboy scratched his bearded cheek. “It’s not like I’m going to deliver myself right into their hands. I can take care of myself. How’s it go? Forewarned is forearmed?” 

“Something like that,” Angel said.

“Do you want to check what I’ve done before I get to those jasmine plants and finish up?” Angelboy gestured to the garden as his cat went to investigate Angel. The shade-bound man scooped Ratter up, and she started kneading his chest. “My cat, the attention whore.”

“Dawn wanted to take Ratter to the vet,” Buffy said, going over to the garden.

“I can’t afford that.”

“She was going to take her to the cheap mobile clinic and pay herself. You know, shots, flea medicine that sort of stuff. Maybe get her fixed if you wanted.”

Angelboy hunched in on himself, feeling bad about what he had done last night. The decency he was running up against almost hurt. “She doesn’t have to do that.”

“She wants to.” Buffy examined the garden. “It looks good. I’ll water everything for you. You’re looking pale.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll get those jasmine plants out and the roses in.” Angelboy pushed off the ground. The sky spun crazily, and he found himself face down in the grass. Sweat broke out all over his body. He heard them moving. Angel didn’t go far but Buffy was at his side almost instantly.

“Angel, go get Willow.” Buffy slid her hands under him, trying to haul him up.

“No, that’s okay. I just got light headed,” Angelboy protested, rolling onto his back. She helped.

“You lost a lot of blood two nights ago.” She took his hand comfortingly. “I shouldn’t have made you do this.”

“I’m okay, really.”

“How about we get you inside and let the doctor decide,” Angel said, still holding Angelboy’s cat.

“Okay.”

Buffy helped him up. He was able to walk under his own power. He stumbled on the door jamb and Angel caught him. “Make sure Ratter doesn’t get loose by herself,” Angelboy muttered.

“I have her,” Angel said. “I don’t think you should try getting up to your room yet. Willow’s in the library the last I saw her. Maybe you should just go sit there until you aren’t so dizzy.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Angelboy resisted the urge to return the sandwich to the outer world but only by clenching his teeth and pressing his tongue into his palate, hard. He walked into the library, and then took the quickest route to the soft rug in the corner. Willow was on her feet even before Buffy could tell her he was sick.

“What happened?” Willow asked.

“I got a little light headed, that’s all,” Angelboy said. “I’ll be okay.”

“Why don’t I check you out?” Willow didn’t wait for an answer, heading off to get her medical bag, he assumed.

Angelboy stretched out on the rug, feeling wiped out and afraid. He didn’t want to let Willow see his wounds. She would see how he was different. He knew the wounds were nearly healed even though they shouldn’t be. “You could just tell Willow I’m fine. I just got a little too hot.”

“Once Willow gets started on something, it’s hard to derail her,” Giles said, looking up from his books.

Angelboy sighed and waited for the inevitable. Ratter curled up next to him, and he stroked her fur. Willow came back with her stethoscope around her neck and a blue gym bag with a caduceus on it. She knelt beside him.

“Want the others to leave?” She looked at her friends meaningfully.

“Nah.”

Willow shrugged, and then took a listen to his chest. “Your heart’s racing a bit.”

“Buffy gave me lots of sugar.”

Willow nodded. “And you’re hypovolemic, not enough blood. It’s making your heart work harder.” She slipped a thermometer into his ear and checked it. “That’s good. You don’t have a fever so you don’t have heat stroke. I think you probably just over exerted yourself between here and at Anne’s.”

Angelboy rolled his eyes. “Did Anne tell everyone I was working too hard?”

“She told Buffy. Buffy told me and Angel.” Willow said, laying him back. “Let’s have a look at these wounds.”

He caught her hand. “You don’t have to. They’re fine.”

“Let me be the judge.” Slipping free of his grip, Willow took off the dressing and her eyes widened as she poked around his belly gently. Only one small section was still open, weeping a reddish-yellow fluid. The rest had sealed into angry lines. “Oh...my.”

“What? They look good,” he insisted, trying to deflect her from how fast he healed.

“Is there something wrong?” Angel asked and Angelboy couldn’t help thinking the guy sounded like a worried parent at the pediatrician’s.

“They’re healing...too much. This is like a week’s worth of healing.” She looked at the wounds on his cheek. “I can’t explain how- ”

“Willow, it’s fine,” Buffy said, sternly.

Willow’s head jerked up as she reluctantly took her eyes off of him. “But Buffy, this isn’t- ”

Buffy’s face hardened. “Willow, later, okay?” 

Angelboy watched their exchange of facial expressions and body language and puzzled over it. It was like Buffy thought she knew something about him, and he had to wonder on that. He healed good, always had, and he told them so. Willow looked unconvinced but wrapped the wounds back up.

“I think you just need to rest and eat a little. Drink some water.” Willow ordered. “The tea will just dry out your tissues more.”

He grimaced. “I’m pretty full.”

“Okay, water now. Good iron-based food later. In fact, I’ll get you the water and some iron pills, okay?” Once again, Willow didn’t wait.

Angelboy took the pills like a good boy, drank some water and stretched out on the rug. He knew everyone was looking at him. “Can I just sleep here? I’m out of the way, and I didn’t want to get on the furniture because...well, you know.” He saw from their embarrassed looks that they did know. He was riddled with lice and maybe scabies, too, and he didn’t want to make them have to decontaminate everything in the hotel.

“Just rest. We’ll try to be quiet,” Willow said.

Quiet didn’t last long. The phone rang, jarring Angelboy back into the land of wakefulness. Giles answered it, and then immediately turned the phone over to Buffy. “It’s Kate. There’s been yet another murder. Norah Lewis, the owner of the magic shop.” 

“Damn it,” Buffy growled, and then talked to Kate.

Angelboy watched her and Willow go. He guessed that they were headed for the crime scene. Angel, trapped by the sun, stayed with Giles. Angelboy assumed they were doing research or trying to put the puzzle pieces together. He offered to help. Angel counter-offered to get him something to eat. Neither offer was accepted, and Angelboy faded back off to sleep.


	13. The Tattered Web

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

_Save me._  
Call my name and save me from the dark.   
Wake me up.   
Bid my blood to run.   
I can’t wake up.   
Before I come undone.   
Save me.   
Save me from the nothing I’ve become...  
Bring me to life.   
I’ve been living a lie   
There’s nothing inside.   
**Bring Me to Life - Evanescence**

Buffy got a good long distance view of the remains of a person she had known and liked. Norah must have been leaving the shop for some reason, maybe even running for her life because she had been slain on the street. Police were all over the scene by the time Buffy and Kate arrived. There was no chance of her getting a close up look. A low roof top, Slayer sight enhanced with binoculars, and Buffy could spy on the crime scene. She found she’d rather not see it.

She wasn’t the young lady she had been moving to Sunnydale, squicked out by corpses but still, this made her a little queasy. Butchering was thankfully not a common M.O. for most demons so it wasn’t often that she found people shredded. It didn’t help that she knew this victim. As callous as it might be, Buffy wished this had happened at night so Angel could sniff things out, make sure it was the same demon and not some fresh horror. The way the body was shredded, Buffy didn’t have much doubts this was the same killer.

As she watched, Buffy’s mind drifted to Angel’s son. What had Connor felt, what had he thought, when he found two young girls he was close to pulled apart like poor Norah down on the sidewalk? Connor was something of an enigma to her, and her long talk with him today had only deepened the mystery. There was an air of pathos around him. She felt sorry for him and yet at the same time, wanted to kick his ass for authoring much of his own tragedy. 

Buffy also wanted more from him. She was convinced Connor knew more than he was saying. He had hinted around that the killer was something other than human. She knew he didn’t want to believe that his so-called delusions of demons might be real. She didn’t know what kind of damage would be done if Connor was forced to face the demons. Tomorrow she, Angel and Lorelei needed to sit down and discuss it, because if Connor could pick a demon out of Giles’ archives, and then he needed to do it before more corpses littered the ground.

Knowing she was doing no good just sitting there, Buffy left. She would learn more when Kate came back to the Hyperion. Buffy felt too restless to go home and help wade through the dull books. Worse, she didn’t want to face Angel and his misery. She didn’t know how to help him. She knew he might not want to hear what she had to say on the subject, mainly that he was powerless to stop Connor from using drugs short of locking him away. She knew Angel wasn’t prepared to do that yet. Buffy hated dodging her lover but she did it anyway. 

She went to the school and trained with the girls for a long while, being harder on them than she should have been. They didn’t deserve to take the brunt of her frustrations. When she finally got home, everyone was in the library; Gunn and Fred on one couch, Xander, Cordy and Willow on another. Dawn, Giles and Lorelei shared a table while Angel paced the room. Kate had returned and was setting up a white board with the victims’ pictures splayed across it as they tried to find a common thread. At least Joshua was off somewhere, presumably playing where he wouldn’t see this.

Angelboy was still there. Buffy didn’t know if he had ever gone upstairs to get the rest Willow had wanted him to have, but he was watching the proceedings with a detached calm. A fine tremor ran through him, and Buffy took that to mean that he probably had been in the library all this time and needed a fix. She saw Angel’s eyes on his son and could only imagine how he was torturing himself over this.

Willow handed her some pictures, crime scene photos smuggled to them by Kate. Buffy tried hard not to see close up the way Norah had been pulled apart. Angelboy looked over Buffy’s shoulder at the pictures she held. She handed them to him. “Know anything about it?” She didn’t expect an answer. She merely asked because they had asked him about all the other victims.

“I go to this store. They have the jasmine candles I like.” His face screwed up. “But I haven’t been there in a week, maybe longer. She couldn’t have followed me there...unless she’s been watching me for a while.”

“This is getting creepy,” Cordy said, looking at Angelboy. His expression said he agreed; eyes under the hair hanging over his dead-white face turned into huge cerulean orbs. “What if he leads the killer here?” Cordy gave Angelboy a hard look

 

“We’re safe. We have...um sanctuary here,” Fred said, editing herself before she said sanctuary spell.

Angelboy shot the women a curious but irritated look before he flopped back down where he had been lying on the floor.

Kate put Angelboy’s name on the board and wrote the names of the two dead girls and the magic shop owner’s under him. “And you don’t really know any of the other victims, Angelboy?”

“No. Do the same with these two.” Angelboy gestured to Angel and Gunn. Kate smiled thinly at being told her job but seemed a little amused at his almost enthusiastic attempt to help.

“You’re including me now?” Gunn sounded surprised.

Angelboy nodded, even more of his long hair falling into his eyes. “I was angry when I blamed just Angel. She came looking for a ‘him.’ Could be you as well as Angel.”

“Can’t argue that,” Gunn said but Fred looked unhappy at his inclusion. She rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“Fine. So you and Angel knew Amaya,” Kate said, making notations. “Angel, did you know any of the others?”

“Norah from the magic shop, and I’ve done coffee runs.” Angel shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t know the owners exactly, but I’ve had contact with them.”

“Same here, identical,” Gunn said.

Kate nodded. “Can I write this in for all of you or do I need to make any changes, you in particular, Buffy since you were with Angel and Gunn at Angelboy’s squat? I don’t want to over-focus on the ‘he was here’ comment.”

“It’s the same for me,” Buffy said and the rest concurred. They all had contact with the non-homeless victims.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” Kate said. “We don’t even know if we’re connected to the killings at all other than by some circumstantial evidence.”

“I’m not a big believer in coincidence,” Angel said. “We know four victims. This has to come back to us somehow.”

Kate looked unhappy. “I know but I’m trying to minimize that. I can’t explain to the other detectives about-” She stopped abruptly, seeing the panicked looks on Angel’s and Buffy’s face as she nearly blurted out vampires and demons in front of Angelboy.

“We know what you’re saying,” Angel assured her. “If we have to give formal statements, just let us know.” 

“Thanks, Angel. Right now, I’m hoping to avoid bringing everyone down to the station. That includes you, Angelboy.” Kate glanced over at the young man. Buffy saw him tense immediately at the mention of the station. “But if it becomes necessary, I’ll let you know.”

“Kate, is that all for tonight?” Willow asked. “I think some of us really need to turn in. And, in case you’re wondering, I’m talking to you, Angelboy.”

He got up off the floor, weaving a bit. “Yeah, actually I’m not going to argue that. I’m beat but it gets a little lonely up there. Guess I’m just not used to the quiet.”

“We could probably find you a radio,” Dawn said, piping up finally. “If that would help.”

Buffy watched that scary smile of his blossoming on his face. “Yeah, thanks.”

“So you’re just moving in?” Xander asked as Cordelia made an unhappy noise about the idea. 

Angelboy’s eyes narrowed. “You guys got my place all fucked up. He offered me a place to stay.” He jerked a thumb at Angel. “If you want me gone, just say so.”

“No,” Angel said before Buffy could. She spared a glare for Xander, knowing exactly what he was doing, trying to protect Cordelia from the unpleasantness Angelboy represented. “We still need your help, and you’ve been good enough to give it. You can stay here for a while. There’s plenty of room.”

Buffy was surprised when Angel turned on his heel and walked out after that, not even waiting to see if his son actually agreed to it. Maybe he didn’t want to argue with anyone about this. She wasn’t blind to the fact that Xander and Cordelia didn’t like Connor around, and Fred and Gunn really hated it, or at least didn’t want him and his drug use anywhere near their son. She understood that part. Buffy offered to help Connor upstairs but he blew her off. He didn’t even wait for the elevator. He just staggered up the steps on his own dubious power.

Angel had gone to their penthouse, shocking Buffy. Now that it was night, she had expected him to go from the brainstorming session right out to patrol. Now that he wasn’t pacing at top speed and she could get a good, honest look at him, Angel looked like someone had tied him behind a bus and dragged him across the city. She put her arms around him.

“You look so worn out,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

“Seeing Connor like this...it’s killing me, Buffy. The longer he’s here, the worse it gets. I almost wanted Xander to run him off tonight.” Angel shuddered as he admitted that. “I don’t know how to help him.”

“Angel, I’m not sure you can. You have to prepare yourself for that.” Buffy hated saying it but she didn’t think Angel would face it on his own. She turned him so she could look him in the eye.

“I refuse to accept that.” He couldn’t meet her gaze. She expected that and his refusal as well. She wasn’t sure how to get through to him.

“Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow after we get some rest. The same goes for the other stuff I wanted to talk about.” She instantly regretted saying that. He got a pinched look on his face, expecting another rant from her about Connor.

“What stuff?”

She ran a hand along his cheek, coming up with the perfect half-truth. “Just crime scene stuff, nothing that can’t wait.”

Angel nodded, immediately disinterested. Buffy had never seen him so distracted from a case. “I have to go in to the office tomorrow. Tricia won’t be back from her parents’ home until three. I’d like you to be there with Giles and Robin.”

“Of course.” Buffy had nearly forgotten they still needed to protect Connor from Leda and Tricia. “Want me to come with you to the office?”

“If you want,” he replied without enthusiasm. “I’m going to bed.”

Buffy let him go, thinking he might need the space even though it was unusual for him to just retire early. Even though he lived a good part of the day during daylight hours thanks to the necro-tempered glass, Angel still was a creature of the night, and it was barely ten o’clock. She changed her mind quickly about giving him that space. 

Angel was too likely to get lost in the brooding, and she’d have to lug him out of the pit of despair that he’d doubtlessly would cast himself into. She hated seeing him like that, and rescuing him from himself was always a tricky task. It was easier to head off things like this. She went into the bedroom.

He said nothing to her as she stripped and went to shower. Angel didn’t look up as she crawled into bed with him. Buffy cradled him. “We’ll make it through this, Angel. It’s not hopeless. We’ve been in far more hopeless situations than this.”

Angel turned in her arms, facing her. “I know but this isn’t something we can really control. We can only support him if he wants to get clean, but Connor doesn’t know that. He has no idea there are people who would help him, be that support system he was telling you about. I can’t tell him why I’d help without telling him what I’ve done to him.”

Buffy wanted to point out that it might be a good idea to do just that but she held her tongue. Tonight wasn’t the night for it. She wanted to avoid a fight before going to bed. Counselors always said going to bed mad was bad, and she saw the wisdom in that. She kissed him. “There’s time, Angel. We’ll figure something out. If we need to, we can talk to the sister who still wants to help him. I bet she’d help. I think Connor’s starting to trust us a little, at least enough to look a little upset that Xander wanted to throw him out.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said, and then sank into a moody silence. 

Buffy let him go. She just pressed to him tight, letting him draw strength if he needed it. Neither of them had a particularly restful night.

X X X

Angel couldn’t get settled in his Wolfram and Hart office. Cordelia had to be peeled off the floor of her office first thing in the morning, laid low by a vision of the particularly non-helpful type. All she saw was Angel getting beaten up but not where, when or by whom. 

Buffy fluttered around him like a nervous hummingbird, driving him insane with her concern. All she wanted to do was help him but she was treading on eggshells so much that she was making him jumpy. He wished she’d go to the school and let him sulk for a while but he couldn’t tell her that. It would crush her feelings.

“Leave those alone.” Cordy’s voice echoed stridently as it came through the office door. “They aren’t for you.”

“Fine. Keep your fucking doughnuts.”

Hearing Connor’s irritated tone, Angel got up and went out to see Cordy ferociously guarding the box of breakfast treats next to the coffee maker. Buffy looked ready to jump into the fray and Connor’s eyes were hard, fixated on Cordelia. What was his son even doing here?

“Cordy, let him have a doughnut,” Angel said, resigned to having this day get even worse.

She cast a peeved look over her shoulder, her long hair bouncing with the movement. “Why?”

“Because if he’s actually hungry, we should all be thrilled. We can afford to spare a doughnut,” Angel replied, feeling his patience fraying fast.

“I don’t want him rooting around in my food,” Cordelia argued, and Angel was beginning to wonder if Cordelia’s vision included a free-for-all with sugary dough because he felt like throwing down with her at this point.

“I bathed last night. I bathed this morning,” Angelboy retorted, offended. Buffy had told him Connor showed signs of vanity, that he hated his filthy conditions.

“Yeah and you’re wearing my jogging pants,” Cordelia growled.

“Cordy, you put them in the box to go to Anne’s,” Buffy said. “I didn’t think you’d mind. I gave them to Angelboy because nothing of our guys’ clothing will fit him.”

“I’ll give them back to you now if you want.” Angelboy smirked, pulling on the waistband.

“Don’t you dare,” Cordelia warned.

“Fine. I want that cinnamon sugar doughnut, right there.” Angelboy stabbed a finger at his selection. “You fish it out for me if you don’t want me to touch your precious doughnuts.” 

Cordelia tossed her hair and sat back at her desk. “I’m not your secretary. Get it yourself.”

Buffy snagged the doughnut, slammed it on a napkin and shoved it at him. “There. Everyone happy now?” She swept a glare around the room daring them to be unhappy. “What are you even doing here, Angelboy?”

“I was going to ask that myself.” Angel was grateful not to be the one who asked.

“I woke up and everyone was gone.” Angelboy went to sit on the edge of Cordy’s desk until she stabbed at him with a letter opener. He opted for a chair out of range. 

“Some of us have work to do,” Buffy said, a hint of heat to her voice.

“Yeah, well so do I but not until later today,” he replied. “My point is, there’s a psycho killer looking for me or you guys, or at least we think so. I know for a fact two girls are out to kill me. I just figured sitting around ground zero by myself waiting for the psycho or the girls to find me was a bad idea. Going to the school sounded worse. Didn’t want to lead the killer to Anne’s so I came here. No one’s gonna care if some lawyers get eaten up.”

Angel saw the sense in that, such as it was, and heard the fear in his son’s voice. Connor could take care of himself. Angelboy, however, didn’t know his own strength. He was vulnerable. “Well, if you’re planning on spending the day, you might want to come into my office. It’s probably not good to have you just wandering around.”

“Oh, you worry about that here, but you let him wander around home where we’re sleeping, without concern,” Cordelia said. “You should put him back where you found him.”

“Cordelia,” Angel said in low warning. The brain damage from the coma took away Cordy’s impulse control, but still he wished she could at least learn to hold her tongue. “Angelboy is our guest. Please treat him that way.”

“Besides, I’ve been at your place long enough, you can’t get rid of me,” Angelboy said.

Cordelia arched an eyebrow. “Just watch us.”

“I haven’t done anything to abrogate my rights,” he replied. “You’re letting me stay there. You can’t throw me out. You’d actually have to evict me if I decided I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“He’s right you know,” Lilah said, strolling in, a folder in hand. “Well, at least about the part about evicting him.”

Cordelia shrugged, obviously unconcerned. “I could always have Kate arrest him. I think doing drugs means you have abrogated your rights, yeah, I know what that meant.” She shot Angelboy a haughty look.

“I should hope so working here,” Angelboy shot back, seeming in a mood to argue today. Angel knew how his son used to be, how he could go out of his way to pick a fight, how he could out stubborn just about anyone.

“I’m getting a headache,” Buffy said, pinching the bridge of her nose. Angel was wondering if vampires could actually get migraines. It felt like it.

“Way ahead of you.” Cordelia pulled open the drawer, rummaging around. She slammed it shut. “Out of aspirin.”

“Fine, Buffy, you and Cordy head to the pharmacy. Get us all some aspirin. Angelboy, please step into my office. Lilah, what the hell are you even doing here?” Angel felt what little control he had slipping away.

“I work here, remember?” Lilah handed him. “The Logan report, just like you asked.”

“Fine.” Angel snatched it away. He gave her a ‘what-are-you-still-standing-here-for’ look. She grinned and helped herself to the doughnuts before leaving. He went to his office and slammed the door, not even sure if Buffy and Cordelia had done what he said. Connor was draped over his couch, having turned on the TV that was part of his luxury office. The couch and TV were in one corner with some potted plants around the leather couch. It seemed a separate world from the rows of books near his desk and the large weapons display on the wall behind his desk.

“You want me to turn this off?” Connor waved a hand at the TV.

“It won’t bother me.”

“So, am I the reason everyone’s so pissy?” Connor’s blue eyes fastened on him. “If so, I can leave, you know. It’s not like I don’t know how to survive just fine on my own. My wounds are almost healed.”

“I’d rather have you where we can find you, if we need your input on the investigation,” Angel said, trying not to sound too nervous at the idea his son could fade away back into the grimy parts of the city. “And you’re not the reason everyone’s in a bad mood.”

Connor rolled his eyes, scratching at his beard. Angel remembered the time when lice was commonplace and knew how his son was silently suffering the infestation. It made him want to help that much more. “Yeah, right.”

“Well, you’re to blame for Cordelia’s bad mood,” Angel conceded. It didn’t pay to lie to his son when the falsehood was so transparent. “Neither Buffy nor I got any sleep last night and Lilah, the less said about her the better.”

“Fine, whatever. I’ll just chill here until it’s time for me to do my work.” Connor polished off the last of his doughnut.

Angel could imagine what Connor considered work; stealing, dealing, whoring, each uglier than the next. He couldn’t stop himself from asking “What work?”

His son shook his head. “If you knew, you’d be an accessory.”

Angel gritted his teeth and chose the lesser of three evils. “I don’t want you out there stealing.”

“If I’m in jail, you’d know where I was in case you needed to question me more.” Connor smirked. “And I didn’t say anything about stealing.” He got up and leaned over Angel’s desk, looking him in the eye. His long hair fell over his shoulders, making him look effeminate even with the beard. “Want to tell me the real reason you’re keeping me around?”

“You know why. How many times do I have to explain it?” Angel didn’t like the tone of Connor’s voice or the look in his eye. 

“Bullshit. You could have me arrested at any time for possession, granted you couldn’t hold me long. You could probably even have me committed to a psych ward for telling you all about my delusions. You could put me in a number of places to keep an eye on me for the whole ‘let’s ask Angelboy about the murders’ thing. You don’t have to keep me in your strange little commune hotel-home, pissing off all your friends.” Connor hopped up on the edge of the desk. “I think I know why though.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Angel said honestly. His gut told him he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“I figure it’s one of two things.” Connor planted his hands on the desk, stretching his back as he did so. Angel got the impression his son was putting himself on display. “Either you like to watch and you’re trying to figure out if Buffy will go for it or you’re working up the nerve to ask me for yourself, wondering if I’ll tell her.”

Angel’s stomach dropped, realizing where this was going. He tried to stop it before the words burned their way into his brain but he couldn’t find his voice.

“Since it’s a work day, I figure why not lay my cards on the table. I’m betting you don’t know where to score smack so these are the rates.” Connor swung on the desk, parking a foot on either arm of Angel’s chair. “Thirty for a hand job, fifty for a blow job and I don’t do anal because men don’t listen to the rules. Anything weird costs you extra and all-nighters are expensive. I’m not picky about where. Here is as good a place as any.”

Angel wanted to puncture his ear drums so he didn’t have to hear any more, or to choke Connor until the words stopped coming. Instead, he tried to smother his emotions. As calmly as he could he said, “You’re way off base. No one is keeping you around for sex. I don’t want to ever hear you propositioning me or anyone else in the hotel or the school or here again. Understood?” His voice was peppered habanero hot by the end of the speech. Angel pushed away from the desk, moving out from between Connor’s legs.

Connor looked at him as if he didn’t believe him. Angel knew the look. Connor thought he was just having trouble admitting he was gay or liked prostitutes or whatever banal thing that passed as a normal day for his child. Vampires didn’t usually get sick to their stomachs but Angel felt like his last blood meal was trying to make a return appearance.

“Understood?” Angel got to his feet.

Connor’s expression turned hostile, his body hunching in on itself. “Whatever.”

“Fine. Stay here and keep out of the way. I’ve got work to do.” Angel stormed past him and out the door. Buffy was waiting for him, looking ready to bitch at him for shutting her out and sending her off like an errant school girl. He blew her off and marched to Lilah’s office. There was some young man in with Lilah that Angel didn’t know. He jerked a thumb at the door. “Out.”

The man didn’t have to be told twice. He slammed the door behind him. 

Lilah scowled at Angel. “Who do you think you-” She didn’t get the sentence out before Angel hauled her out of her chair, shoving her back against her desk. 

“Shut up, Lilah.”

She tried to kick him and Angel twisted her around, throwing her face down on the desktop. He pressed his weight against her and growled in her ear, “Do you know how many ways I can hurt you like this, Lilah?” He felt the fangs in his mouth, having morphed without realizing it. He had no desire to find out if she had anything passing for blood in her veins.

“What is your problem today, Angel?” Her hand flailed around trying to grab something sharp.

He took the letter opener she was reaching for and impaled her hand with it. She wailed. “My son thinks I’m keeping him around because I want to fuck him,” he snarled, pressing her face down against the hard rosewood desk. “It’s a work day for him, and I’m sure you already know what he does for a living because hell, you knew exactly where he was and what he was doing.”

“So I’m to blame because your son’s a strawberry?” She managed to sound remarkable calm. He guessed there was little a dead woman had to lose. She wasn’t even pretending that the Senior Partners had been blind to Connor’s life. “Our Intel says he’s rumored to have a talent orifice there in the middle of his face.”

The demon in him growled this time as he got hold of her pantyhose-clad leg. “Want to see how fast I can dislocate your knee, Lilah?”

“Go ahead. Pain doesn’t last long in this body.” Lilah sounded worried now. The Angelus in him wanted really hurt her, use her like strangers were using his son, leave her battered corpse on public display for all to see. Sickened, Angel tried to battle his demon down. “What would your precious Buffy think? Maybe I should show her the DVDs I had brought up from the vaults, tell her your little secret.”

“Feel free. I’ve already told her, and she’ll be pretty understanding if I toss you out the window.” Angel pulled the letter opener free and jerked Lilah to her feet. “In fact, let’s get those DVDs. What are they? Surveillance of the hotel before Lorne figured out you were spying? The tapes from the mall? I want them.” He propelled her to the safe. “I’m betting you have them in there so get them.”

“Why should I?”

Angel shoved her head first into the wall, and then hauled her back. Her barely-attached head bobbled. “Because I’ll keep doing this all day until you do.”

Lilah cupped a hand to her bleeding forehead. “Fine. What do I care if you have them? I don’t see why you’re taking this out on me.” She punched in the combination. “It’s not like I’m the one who turned him into a junkie whore. That was your doing, Angel. If you hadn’t had the Senior Partners hire out to cast that spell, Connor wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Angel tossed her to the ground, opening the safe. He pulled out the DVDs. “Don’t think for a moment, I don’t wish I could take it all back, Lilah.”

She smirked through the blood pouring down her face. Lilah staggered to her feet and fished out her cell phone. Angel didn’t wait to see what she was doing as he headed back to his office. He heard her saying, ‘he said it,’ and heard her heels clicking after him in the hallway. Buffy looked even more infuriated when he got back to the office. He just handed her the DVDs and locked himself in his office. Connor was watching TV with half-lidded eyes, looking unconcerned that a man he considered a potential John had just come back into the room. Someone knocked on the door.

“Go away.”

“Angel, you’re about to get your wish,” Lilah said through the door.

Before Angel even had time to fear that remark, Connor shrieked. His emaciated son started thrashing on the couch, screaming wordlessly as if in horrible pain. Angel tried to grab onto him, to calm him. He heard Buffy on the other side of the door, demanding to know what was wrong, hammering at it. It wouldn’t take long for her to get through.

“It’s all right, Connor,” he said, trying to cradle his agonized son. He knew what was happening now: his wish. The spell was coming undone. He heard Cordy crying out in pain in the other room as the spell let go of her mind, too. “It’ll be okay.”

Before Angel knew what was happening, teeth embedded themselves in his neck and a knee found its way into his groin. His son turned into a hellion in his arms, biting and hitting him. Pain darkening his vision, Angel let go and didn’t even see the next blow before it crashed into his jaw. 

“You ruined me!”

Angel shook his head, trying to clear it. He held out a hand to Connor. “No, son...”

“You ruined me!” Connor shrieked more loudly as the wooden door started giving way. He grabbed the TV, ripping it form the wall. He flung it at Angel who barely dodged in time. Connor grabbed the nearest weapon to hand off Angel’s wall, a mace.

Angel didn’t want to hurt his son but saw nothing rational left in Connor’s eyes. Keeping up his litany of ‘you ruined me,’ Connor flailed away with the mace. Angel did his best to avoid getting hit but the sheer ferocity of the attack made it impossible. Still, his son was so weak, the blows didn’t break bone. Angel tried to get the mace away from Connor before he remembered that the wooden handle would be more dangerous to him than the metal ball he was currently whacking him with.

Hearing the door give away, Angel whirled and cried, “Don’t hurt him, Buffy.” Taking his eyes off Connor, proved to be a mistake. The mace caught him on the jaw and Angel thought it might have jarred loose teeth. His stomach clenched as he went down.

Buffy caught the mace before Connor could use it to crush his skull. She yanked it free of Connor’s grip, taking him off his feet. “Angel?” She packed a million questions into his name but waited for no answer. She tried to subdue Connor and got bit for her trouble. Yelping, she went to hit him back, and Angel caught her arm.

Connor took opportunity to run. Angel staggered up and followed, trailing blood behind him. Someone had called security, and they were coming with guns drawn. Connor wheeled around, slipped under Angel’s grab, and darted back into the office. He ran to the window, and then turned, his eyes wide. Buffy tried to catch him. Connor dodged her, leaping onto the desk. He used it as a springboard and crashed through the window just as Angel reached for him. Angel fell back as the sun light poured in.

Buffy gasped, racing to the window. She stared out of the high-rise window. “My God. He’s not dead...he’s running away.”

Angel dropped onto the couch. Pain, physical and emotional, ripped through him. “Oh, God, Buffy, what did I do?”

She sat next to him, examining his bleeding jaw. “What happened?”

“I lost my temper. Connor propositioned me and I lost it...all over Lilah.” Angel pushed her hands away and she fought past him. “I wished I had never done the spells.”

“You got your wish.” Buffy’s fingers went to the ragged gash in his neck where Connor’s teeth had torn his flesh.

He nodded. “Connor freaked out...Buffy, he’s alone out there, confused and afraid. You have to find him. Just don’t hurt him.”

She wiped blood from his face. “He might not leave me any choice, Angel.”

“Call Willow. Her magic should be able to subdue him. Take no one else. Connor isn’t as strong as he should be because of the things he’s done to his body, but I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of him. You’re strong enough to deal with him.” Angel felt tears pricking at his eyes. “Just try not to hurt him too much.”

Buffy kissed his cheek. “I promise. I’ll go look for him but you get down to Fred’s lab and have her bandage you up.”

Angel nodded, casting a hateful glance out the broken window at the sun. He wanted to be out there, too. He had made this mess. Buffy shouldn’t have to clean it up. More importantly, he just wanted Connor home safely. He had no idea if there was anything left to his son’s mind but he couldn’t just leave him alone, not now.

X X X

When Connor stopped running, he was so far from Wolfram and Hart, he couldn’t fathom how he had gotten there. His legs burned from the exertion. He needed a fix. He needed one more now than he ever had before. Connor saw green just in front of him and realized he had run all the way to a city park. 

He went to the nearest bench and sat down, shaking all over. He remembered it all now. All those horrible delusions, the things he had tried to banish with therapy and drugs, were all real. Vampires were real. The horrible hell that waited for him in his nightmares had been home. He could still smell the place, feel the harshness of Quor-Toth against his fragile skin.

Connor knew almost all their faces. Buffy, Giles, Xander, and Lorelei were mysteries to him, but he remembered Dawn from school, Willow and her magic, Gunn and Fred, still together it seemed and his beautiful Cordelia, somehow turned into an almost child-like woman. Where was Wesley?

Connor turned and puked this morning’s doughnut into the bushes next to the bench. What had been done to him? Why did he remember two distinct lives? Angel had to be responsible. There was no doubt in his mind. The worst part was, even as he was trying to beat the vampire to death, it didn’t fight back. He saw the love in his father’s eyes, the fear for him, the overweening worry. The thought made him vomit again, retching until nothing but a thin stream of mucus came out. Wiping his face, Connor tried to make sense of it all, only nothing would come together. It was like building a jigsaw in a hurricane.

Connor latched onto something to ground himself, and the first touchstone to hand was anger. The second was fear. Together they stiffened his backbone. The sounds of his father’s voice telling him it was all right, pleading with Buffy not to hurt him, made him furious. It would never be all right, and no one could hurt him more than he had already been hurt. He would prove that to his father. He would shove it in Angel’s face. That in mind, he headed to Madam Dorion’s, ready to do business and then some.


	14. Dissolution of Self

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

_I have made a very big decision_  
I gonna try to nullify my life -   
you know   
I get so low and then the smack flows   
I don’t care, I’m gonna make it my wife   
Because when the blood begins to flow   
And shoots up the droppers neck   
And I’m closin’ in on death   
**Heroin - Billy Idol**

Angel put Cordy in a cab bound for the hotel. Between visions and the spell breaking she looked exhausted and was bitchier than he cared to deal with. The one thing he took solace in was that her memories hadn’t returned. He didn’t have to worry about the evil she did haunting her.  
Angel told anyone who cared he was going home. He trudged through the sewer, giving a fair amount of thought to running up to play in the sun. What was he going to do now? His son was alone and afraid. What was Connor doing? Was he still freaked out? What if he hurt someone in his agitated state? What if he hurt himself? Had he pulled himself together enough to go to work? Angel didn’t even want to think about what that meant. 

Was Connor on his knees in some alley giving a stranger head for fifty dollars? Letting people like Amaya whip him? Angel guessed that was in the ‘weird, costs extra’ category. He couldn’t think about it. He would drive himself nuts this way. He had known, deep down, that this was part of Connor’s life. He hadn’t needed to be told but now that it was out there, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

He wanted to be out there looking for Connor. He wanted to help Buffy, but he knew it was pointless to be wishing for it. It was daylight and as used to working in the day as he had gotten, the truth was without magical protection he was useless until nightfall. Buffy was on her own, and in a city the size of Los Angeles, he knew her chances of finding Connor were next to zero. She couldn’t track like he could, and if Connor wanted to disappear, Angel was betting his son could do it easily.

Angel was in no hurry to return to the Hyperion where all he could do was pace around, working himself up. He was in no frame of mind to work on the case. Worse, what if Gunn and Fred were already there? He had left the law firm without bothering to check and see how they were doing. He knew they had to be confused and angry. Lorne would be somewhere doing the drama queen act. He expected phone calls from Wes in Cleveland to be on the answering machine, a string of curses from Faith. He had sent Buffy out with Willow as back up but what if the witch was in no better shape than Cordy? He knew Buffy wouldn’t call and tell him that. She would be out there alone but that didn’t worry him. She could handle herself.

 

Angel wasn’t expecting Giles, Lorelei, and Willow to be home when he got there. Willow sat with Cordelia who still looked awful. Gunn and Fred had made it back. He tried not to meet their angry eyes. He knew what was coming and planned on just accepting it. How often did he ever fight back when his friends railed against him? He usually assumed he deserved it. This time he knew he did.

“Willow, are you all right? I thought Buffy was going to take you with her,” he said, letting his concern for his lover surface just a bit before the inevitable barrage.

“She told me to stay at the school, that she could follow your son herself.” Willow’s arms, already crossed in front of her, tightened. “I feel like someone’s been drilling for oil inside my brain thanks to the backlash of that spell.”

“Angel, how could you?” Fred stalked over to him, slinging back her hair. “You messed with our minds, robbed us of our memories. How could you violate us like this?”

“Do you know what I let Wolfram and Hart do to my brain because you decided we had to work with them?” Gunn growled, keeping his distance. Angel guessed Gunn was ready to throw down and was trying to hold back. “All the pain I went through to get years of law school crammed into my skull, all based on a lie.”

“No, the spell had nothing to do with that,” Angel said, stepping away from Fred. “You did that on your own, Gunn, to prove you were more than muscle.” Gunn’s eyes turned to cold jet but Angel refused to back down. “I told Wolfram and Hart in exchange for giving Connor a new life that I would work for them, and they could only offer the jobs to you if they took the standard selling your soul in perpetuity clause off the table.”

“That was an option?” Giles interjected, a horrified look in his blue eyes. “We knew that Wolfram and Hart had once been evil but...”

“They’re still evil,” Angel cut in “Only our branch has changed, because of our hard work. The point is, yes, I did have your memories altered but you signed up with Wolfram and Hart on your own.”

“Like hell,” Fred said, moving back into his space, poking him with a finger. “I wanted to walk out the door. You said it was an executive decision, we were all working for Wolfram and Hart.”

“Angel, how could you do that?” An aghast expression marred Willow’s pretty face.

“I said they would, because we were a team but this isn’t the time period I grew up in where you can sell and buy people. I couldn’t force anyone to take the contract. You weren’t slaves, Fred. You could have said no, but I know you were the only one who didn’t want to take the contract. I heard you talking before you knew I was there. Gunn, you said you were going to take it no matter what the rest of us did. Wes and Lorne wanted to as well,” Angel said, trying to keep his voice steady. So much for passively accepting their anger because he deserved it. He didn’t feel sorry for what he had done. He would have done anything to save his son, and he’d do it again if that was his only choice. “I’ll accept the blame for rewriting your memories, not for making you sign up with Wolfram and Hart. That you did on your own. Gunn, you took what they offered, eyes open. You wanted the knowledge and whatever else the big cat in the White Room offered.”

“That still doesn’t give you the right to screw with our brains,” Gunn said, looking unhappy at having faults in his rant pointed out. “You’re always making decisions for us like you’re the only one who knows what’s right.”

Angel said nothing to that.

“I don’t understand why you took this step,” Giles said, pushing up his glasses. “Willow told me about your son on the way here...after she came out of the spell-induced seizure. It’s why I’m here. I can’t think of anything more fascinating than a living child of two vampires.”

“I came back here because I thought I might be able to help a little,” Lorelei said, looking like she felt like an intruder. “Now that Connor knows the truth, that the vampires and other things he thought were part of his schizophrenia are real, he might need help sorting out reality.”

Angel went over and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks. I wish...I wish he were here now. He took off. Buffy’s looking for him.”

“Looks like took it out on you first.” Giles gestured to Angel’s bruised face.

“Trust me, he’s not alone in that feeling,” Gunn grumbled. “You want your kid to have a nice happy life? Fine, but why did you have to screw with our heads?”

“It was the only way Wolfram and Hart was willing to make it work, and I’m not sorry I tried,” Angel said, and his friends’ eyes widened, not expecting that. “Yes, I’m sorry it had to be at the expense of altering your memories, but Connor deserved better than he got. Is there nothing you wouldn’t do to keep Joshua safe and happy?”

“Leave my son out of this,” Gunn said, but Fred put a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’d do anything to protect Joshua,” she replied. “But to go to this extreme...”

“There’s no excuse,” Gunn said.

“You only say that because you don’t know everything.” Angel swung a hand, knocking a row of books off the shelf. They clattered to the ground with a resounding bang. “While you, my friends, were getting the grand tour and hard sell of Wolfram and Hart, Lilah was busy showing me a newscast of Connor holding a store hostage. You know he killed Jasmine. I should have gone after him then...but I was hurt and stunned. I knew it then; he had given up. I was afraid he wanted to die, and I wasn’t wrong. I just didn’t think he’d turn suicide bomber.”

“What?” Fred sagged onto the couch, the anger draining out of her face. 

“I’m still not sure he did it all on his own. How did he learn to make electromagnetic bombs with car batteries and propane.” Angel paused, turning to his lead scientist. “Unless you taught him, Fred.”

She shook her head. “No bombs. I couldn’t ever interest him in science. It was too much for him. Holtz’s idea of science was three hundred years out of step. He taught Connor the best he could but not science. I tried at first but he only got frustrated and that made him...unpleasant.”

“Understatement.” Gunn laughed harshly.

“The point is,” Angel said. “Connor was going to kill a handful of people in the mall, including you, Cordelia.” He cupped her cheek. 

“Why?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why can’t I remember?”

“This happened while you were in a coma. I guess the damage from that has all these memories still locked away but that’s not a bad thing. They’re not happy ones,” he said apologetically. “I think Connor did it because he wanted you with him...or he knew I’d do anything to save you. He didn’t want to kill those people. He was doing it to make me stop him.”

“Suicide by cop, more or less,” Lorelei said. “He couldn’t kill himself so he does something guaranteed to make you kill him.”

“Only I didn’t. I managed to stop him before anyone died, and I had Wolfram and Hart cast the spell.” Angel went over to Gunn. “I had no choice. It was kill him, let Connor live and be lost in his suicidal, perhaps even psychotic, state of mind, or cast the spell. I hope you never have to make a decision like that, Gunn, that you and Fred never have to know that kind of pain. Don’t expect me to apologize for trying to save Connor because I won’t. I did what I had to do. Either you forgive me or you don’t, but nothing any of you can do that would make me hurt worse than giving up my son.” Angel’s voice crackled with his heartache, the emotions barely kept walled up.

“But you didn’t give him up. You knew where he was, right?” Fred twisted her long hair around her hand.

“If I did Fred, do you think he’d be shooting poison into his veins and offering to have sex with me for fifty dollars?” Angel spat. He ignored the dropped jaws and horrified looks. He backed up against the bookshelves. “I got to see him once the day we took the job with Wolfram and Hart. I wasn’t allowed to interfere. I had to be content that he was living a good life. I had no idea that the spell had begun to leak while he was in law school, that he thought he was going mad. Lilah knew, which makes me wonder how much else has been a lie? What else has Wolfram and Hart been keeping from us?” Angel caught himself before he twisted the spindles on the bookcase right off. “For over a decade, Connor has thought he was mentally ill, and his life has been a living hell. Nothing anyone can do to me now would be more painful than knowing what I inadvertently did to Connor. Buffy sent me to hell for a few centuries, and that pain is nothing compared to this.”

“Good speech, Angel,” Gunn said, not looking to be in a forgiving mood. “Should have taped it for Wesley. He called, something about him and Faith being pretty pissed off and heading for the witch’s house, the one who knows how to do a teleportation spell.”

Angel shrugged. “I’ll tell them exactly what I just told you. I’ll tell it to Connor, too, if we ever find him again. He’s the one I should be apologizing to for not bending the rules, for not making sure he was okay. He’s the one who paid the price for what I did. You and Fred have a good life, Gunn. There’s no lie in the feelings you have for one another, in the beautiful son you have or the good home you’ve made for your family. You lost some very ugly memories because of what I did, that’s all. And now you have them back.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Gunn said, starting to move back into Angel’s space.

“I’m not asking you to,” Angel snarled and Gunn froze. Angel turned hearing someone coming in. He hoped it was his son even though he knew from the walk it wasn’t, from the mix of body wash and sweat that it was Buffy. “You didn’t find him,” he said before she could say a word.

Buffy took his hand. “Sorry. I tried. He was gone before I even got to the ground floor. I tried to follow him but it wasn’t like he was leaving a path of destruction. I can’t scent people like you can. I didn’t think someone in his weakened condition could move that fast but since I didn’t know which direction he had gone in...well, I didn’t have much to go on.”

He squeezed her hand. “I know. I don’t blame you. Damn, I wish I could get out there and look.”

“Why don’t you call Kate?” Willow’s eyes sparked with excitement. “She might know where Connor would go for his drugs because he hasn’t been back here yet. He’ll have to shoot up soon, unless he’s going to let himself get sick.”

Angel managed a thin smile. “Good idea, Willow, thanks.”

“I’ll call Anne,” Lorelei said. “Connor helps her, and his kids are still there. They might know where he’d go for drugs.”

“He mentioned working before everything went bad,” Angel said. “Ask them if they know where. If anyone would know where he...” Angel stumbled over the word. “Prostitutes himself, they’d be the ones to ask”

“I’ll handle that,” Lorelei promised, sympathy in her eyes.

“Giles, you and Robin should still meet with Tricia and Leda about their plans to murder my son,” Angel said. “I don’t know...maybe I should check with the demon underground, see if anyone knows anything about the man who dove out of a high rise today and hit the ground running.”

“Want me to get some rooms ready?” Cordelia asked. “Wes and Faith will probably need a place to stay.”

“Expect Spike, too,” Buffy said.

Angel nodded. “Thanks, Cordelia.” He started to leave but changed his mind. He looked at his friends, many of them still looking like they were waiting for an apology. He wasn’t about to give them one beyond what he had already offered. All that mattered now was finding Connor before something worse happened. Changing his mind again, he headed into the basement.

 

X X X

 

The pieces were slowly coming together in his brain. Connor Hennessy, Angelboy, Connor no last name he was aware of, and Steven Holtz were slowly settling into four separate people, and he hated all of them. He wanted them gone, to nullify them. They had all failed to thrive. They deserved to be gone. Steven had been the most successful, but he’d have to go back to hell to reclaim the part of him that worked the best. It was better to just destroy them all.

Connor paused in the lobby of Madam Dorion’s place of business. He knew exactly what she was now. She was no ordinary madam. She was a purveyor of human flesh for demons. His usual tricks weren’t Goths taking blood from him in with syringes. He always had thought they were biting him, but he changed the bloodletting to syringes in his mind. That’s how it was done in Goth vampire clubs because vampires weren’t really real. _Like hell_. He had been giving himself to the creatures he despised the most and hadn’t even understood the perversity of it.

He felt like turning around, running as far from this place as possible. He didn’t know if he could go through with his plan. What would his former friends and family think of him? Did they remember him now, too? Had the Hennessys forgotten him? An image of his real father’s face flashed in his mind. It should have made him leave, go talk with him, figure out what had been done to him and why. Instead it made Connor want to hurt himself more. If he suffered, Angel suffered. That was fine by him. Connor stopped at the reception desk and looked at Honey. She was a striking, tall transwoman who acted as the gate keeper and appointment setter. 

Her bronzed lips parted in a wide smiled. “Hello, Angelboy. You’re here early, sweetie.”

He shrugged, remembering that Angelboy liked this woman. She had offered friendship many times to a man who was hard to be friends with. “Wanted to do a little overtime work.”

“Gotta clear it with Madam Dorion.” Honey started dialing. “You look very good today...but so upset.”

“Cleaned up.” He self-consciously touched his face, knowing he had been cut by the glass going out the window. Had it healed already? Probably. “Got bad news. Figured I might as well take my mind off it with work.”

“When work’s better than what’s on your mind, you’re in a dark place, baby. Want to tell Honey about it?” She gestured for him to sit in the chair next to her.

He smiled. Honey was a sweetheart. She would give him the shirt off her back. She had worked as a prostitute for a while but had moved up to her current position, better money, steady work, giving her a better chance to meet the social and psychology requirements for the sex change surgeries.

Honey set up him up with his extra appointments. Dorion, herself, met with him, concerned her employee was overdoing it. He was, but he didn’t care. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to be cheap. This was what he was, a lowly junkie whore, and he was going to prove that to the world.

Connor just shoved the moral part of him in a cage while he handled the first few customers, not his usual clients. Dorion had called to one of her other places to set it up. Connor wondered how many brothels she owned. He had thought all her clients were demons, but the clients she steered his way today were human from the scent of them.

Mostly they were tentative middle-aged, married men who still couldn’t admit they were gay, looking for hand or blow jobs. He tried not to be sickened as he worked. He was more bored than anything. These men were tedious. His brain could remain detached from his body as his mouth and hands worked.

By the time he’d finished with the five such dull men, it was time for his usual clients, Entropy and her bisexual lover, Aurielle. Technically, they were both bisexual. They were the ones he thought to be Goth girls taking his blood.

Connor readied his usual room for them. At least he didn’t have to use the tiny, claustrophobic shower, which was usually one of the perks of working for Dorion. She not only protected him from Johns who could go overboard and kill him, his room in her brothel was the one place he could clean up so long as he didn’t have a client who liked him dirty.

Entropy and Aurielle didn’t have a preference in that area so long as he was good and high and that he played the submissive. Connor started to strip so he could re-dress for them. The lady vampires didn’t care for him to play seductive games or the like. They liked to get to the down and dirty, or at least Entropy did. Aurielle had no will outside of her lover’s. Either way, Entropy expected him to dress a certain way.

Entropy especially liked to use him while she aroused Aurielle. Connor put on Entropy’s favorite outfit for him, a leather and rubber cage for his cock and balls, a leather collar ringed with tiny silver bells - Aurielle’s favorite - and nothing else. He set out the whips, cuffs and lubes just as they came in. 

He glanced back at them. Aurielle was an elfin thing, barely five feet with hungry blue eyes and golden curls. For a moment he saw a resemblance to Buffy. Entropy was Amazonian, taller than him by far with raven hair and hard jet eyes. Those hawkish eyes fixed on him.

“You look different,” Entropy said. Was the accent Italian? Greek? He had never wondered before.

“Here.” Dainty Aurielle handed him a bag of china white.

Connor’s insides clenched, overwhelmed with desire for the drug. He barely remembered to thank her as he moved off to cook some of it. Aurielle fingered the soft pink collar she wore, a happy expression on her face, like a child being thanked for a job well done. As he held the spoon over the flame, Connor wondered absently at how long Aurielle had been Entropy’s sex slave, a decade? A century?

Aurielle was already on the bed in her pink teddy as he shot up. The heroin took away his worries. He stopped caring even as Entropy clanked a leash onto his collar, dragging him to his knees. The thick strap-on around Entropy’s trim waist stared him in the face. He canted his eyes up at the tall vampire, seeing the hunger in her eyes. Entropy made him crawl to the bed. Aurielle had a horse hair whip in her hands that she surrendered to her lover. Entropy’s face morphed as she took the whip.

As Aurielle drew him between her legs, Connor knew this was going to hurt. Aurielle would take blood hesitantly and only after her mistress. Entropy wasn’t going to wait. Still, the whip kissed his back hard several times before fang and latex were slammed into him. Even as Entropy was bending him backward to give Aurielle access to his neck, Connor didn’t care. Maybe they’d kill him. He knew they wouldn’t. They never had before. They valued the service he provided enough to keep him around. Still, maybe this would be his lucky day and it would go too far. He could only hope.

X X X

Angel didn’t look up as Buffy came into their suite. He could almost feel her agitation as she crossed the room to where he sat watching his fish. Mozart boomed over the sound system but it wasn’t relaxing him. The fish were of no help. Buffy put her hands on his shoulders, and he canted his head up.

She gazed down into his face, “I thought you’d be in the exercise room.”

“I broke the punching bag,” he said. He didn’t mention that he’d nearly broken a wall, too, before locking himself in the dry sauna, tossing some of Willow’s herbs on the heater. The scent didn’t relax him, and the heat made him think of the times his child must have gone cold so he quit the room.

“I noticed.” Buffy rubbed his tight muscles. “You’ll want to break another one.”

He screwed his eyes shut tight. “I can’t take any more bad news, Buffy.”

Her strong fingers dug into his shoulders, working his tight flesh. “Then I shouldn’t talk about what happened at the school with Tricia and Leda.”

He reached up and took her hand. He led her around, pulling her onto his lap. He pressed his lips to hers. “How bad was it?”

“They denied everything. They barely admitted to Amaya taking them to meet Connor.” Buffy stroked his cheek. “They lied about there being any plan to hurt him. Even when we showed them the diary, they claimed Amaya made it all up.”

“Did you believe them?” Angel didn’t think Amaya would have made it up, but perhaps she was that disturbed. He wasn’t about to hang his hopes on it.

“No. We asked about them trying to get Connor to let them play the same game with him as Amaya did, and they said they would never have done that.” Buffy pulled his head against her.

“And Connor told us differently.” Angel knew Connor hadn’t lied about that; he felt the truth deep to the bone.

“I’m far more inclined to believe Connor about this,” Buffy admitted unhappily. “For now, we have them under watch by some of the older girls and on detention. We thought if you came with us for the second talk, it might help.”

“In other words, scare them into a confession,” he said bitterly.

“I wouldn’t have put it that way, but Giles, Robin and Lorelei would like to discuss a strategy with you for getting through to these girls and coming up with a reasonable punishment.” Buffy’s pupils dilated, and Angel could only imagine what she was reading in his face. “That doesn’t include killing them before they turn into another Sunnydale Faith.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” he lied.

“Do you want me to go back out there looking for Connor?” She sounded hesitant.

Angel shook his head. “Kate’s out there now. She knows his usual hang-outs. If she sees him, she’ll call. L.A.’s too big to do a foot search. You did the best you could, Buffy. Either he’ll come back or he won’t. When the sun sets, I’ll go out and see what I can turn up.”

“Sounds good. We also have company,” she said, apology written on her face. “I wasn’t going to bring to up but...”

“Eventually Wes and Faith would storm the citadel,” he said ironically, sweeping a hand around his living room.

“In a word, yes.” Buffy got off his lap. “They’re in the library with Giles.”

Angel sighed, getting to his feet. “Might as well get it over with. How pissed are they?”

“You know, right now, they’re remarkably calm. Spike’s making the most noise but it’s more over the how did the impossible happen with two vampires.” Buffy shrugged. “You know they can’t be happy. They shelled out a couple thousand dollars to pay the witches so they could walk through dimensions to here from Cleveland.”

Angel nodded, and then leaned down giving her a quick kiss. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being here.”

With that, he headed downstairs. He was just as glad that none of his crew was in the library, except Giles and Lorelei. Angel suspected the others were just avoiding him, and he was fine with that for the time being. If it continued, something would have to be done. Right now, he was far too raw. It was hard enough to meet Wes’s hard blue eyes. Faith was easier to deal with. Angel let her first slap hit, and then stepped out of the way of the second. Buffy got between him and Faith.

“You fucked with my brain.” Faith pulled away from Buffy, going back to her corner.

“It wasn’t my first choice of things to do, Faith,” Angel said. “And I’m sorry for having done it but I’m not apologizing for why I did it.”

“So Fred explained,” Wes said, not rising from where he sat sharing scotch with Giles and Lorelei. His face went haunted. “I could have done without remembering. I’m the one...you must hate me.”

Angel shook his head. “I gave up on that a long time ago.” That much was true. Angel had come to understand the reasons Wes had done what he did. He had more or less forgiven it. “All I wanted to do was protect my son, and I’m sorry that it had to be at the expense of your memories.”

“I didn’t know him long,” Faith said, relenting in her fury a bit. “But I’m not sure he needed protecting. Connor was out to kill you, Angel.”

Angel smiled. “He was trying to kill Angelus, Faith. It’s what I asked him to do if Angelus got out.” He felt Buffy shifting next to him. Had he forgot to tell her that part? Faith didn’t look convinced.

Spike got up and hobbled over to him. “Wes explained things on the way here. I still don’t get how this happened.”

“The usual way.” Angel smirked. Spike scowled. Angel realized how much like Giles Spike was beginning to look. When the vampire had been resurrected ala Darla, his human body started aging. Spike made Angel wonder how much of a gift the shanshu really was. If it was coming, he hoped it hurried. He saw no point in being human if it didn’t happen in Buffy’s lifetime. Spike’s curly hair had the same balding pattern as Giles, giving him a high widow’s peak. Lines had begun to crease around blue eyes Angel knew to be near-sighted. Spike wore contacts, and was no doubt still dying his hair, now a rich brown instead of bleaching it blonde. He remembered it as a honey color when Dru first made Spike. It was probably naturally greyed at this point. “Granted, the usual involved two vampires. And you already know this part if Wes told you. How’s the ankle?” Angel remembered belatedly Spike had been injured. He saw the air-cast on Spike’s ankle. That explained the limp.

“Hurts like hell.” Spike tossed himself back down. “Is he here? I’d like to meet this miracle boy.”

Angel felt a pain that he wasn’t expecting, like a tearing of his heart. It had been so long since he had thought of Connor as a miracle, not since he was a baby in arms. “No. He freaked out, beat me up and went out a high rise window. He’s out there now, and I have no idea where he is or if he’s in danger. There is a demon who’s been tracking him, or me or someone from our team.”

“So Giles has been telling us,” Wesley said.

“If she finds Connor before he either comes home or we find him, he’s in trouble.” Angel tried hard not to think about it. It was too frightening.

Faith snorted, ranging around the room. “What I remember, that kid can handle himself.”

“Not anymore,” Buffy said softly, tracking her sister Slayer with her eyes.

“Did you ever see what he could do?” Faith slung back her hair, giving Buffy that challenging look Angel was used to seeing flashing between the two Slayers. 

“Buffy’s right, Faith. She tried to find him after he went out the window, but he eluded her,” Angel said.

“I would imagine he’s forgotten most of what he knew about fighting, thanks to the spell.” Wes shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “He could get killed out there.”

“Keeping yourself alive is instinct.” Faith waved him off.

“Maybe. He’s too changed and none of it for the better. I’m not sure what Giles and Lorelei have told you but the spell backfired.” Angel ran a hand through his hair. “Bits of his real life trickled in. They diagnosed him as schizophrenic.”

“That doesn’t bode well,” Wes said, his blue eyes picking up a curious gleam. “Has he been confined all this time?”

“No.”

“He grew up in hell. Connor came close to kicking my ass,” Faith said, coming back over to Angel. “Crazy or not, he can probably protect himself.”

“You have no idea how bad it is, Faith,” Buffy said, and Angel appreciated her trying to help. Words were failing him badly.

“Then maybe you ought to lay it out so we know what we’re getting into,” Spike said, reminding Angel that no matter how he acted, Spike was smart and was good at working out the details of a plan.

“Think gay-for-pay heroin whore, and you’ll be on the right page,” Angel snarled, stalking past Faith. Spike looked gobsmacked. Wesley looked like he was feeling Angel’s pain and then some. Faith cursed. “Now you see why things are a little tense right now, and why I’m not really in the mood for arguing about what I did and why I did it.”

“Need help trying to find him, Angel?” Faith’s eyes widened. Angel expected that was as much of an apology as he was likely to get from her. 

Angel shook his head. “I know you three are tired from your trip. Buffy looked. Kate’s still looking. She’s seeing if her fellow police might have a clue where to look for him. I’ll be going out soon enough. It would be better if you rested and helped the others with the demoness who’s slaughtering people. Connor is my problem, and I can’t make him a priority over something that’s killing children,” he said, and it was one of the hardest things he had ever had to say. 

Faith nodded. “I could use a nap. If he ain’t back tonight, we’ll help you look.”

“Thanks.” Angel looked outside. Night was still too far away. “Giles, looks like you and I have to talk about those girls.”

The Watcher nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“Might as well get it over with.” Angel sat down, heart-heavy. His only consolation was that Faith and Wes were far less inclined to argue and run him down over what had happened. He hadn’t expected that, especially of Wesley. Obviously being Faith’s Watcher in Cleveland had further changed the man and for the better. Buffy caught his eye for a moment, putting love behind her look. He sighed softly, hoping there was still a way it could all turn out all right.

X X X 

Connor spat the mouthwash into the sink, hearing his last john mumbling in the other room. Archer was a vile sort of man, and would have been even if he wasn’t a vampire. Connor leaned his forehead against the mirror absently washing the sticky whiteness from his cheek. Now that he was leaning, he wasn’t sure if he could stand upright again. Archer had taken more blood in addition to what Aurielle and Entropy had drained from his neck and thighs. Connor hadn’t been fully recovered from the bloodletting the murderous demoness - for surely that was what she had to be, he realized - and now after feeding three vampires he felt lousy.

Managing to stand upright, Connor caught a glimpse of himself, hollow-eyed in the mirror. He had put the belled dog collar back on after the girls were done drinking from him. Connor caressed the soft leather only half-aware that he had missed some of the ejaculate that clung to his long hair. Vertigo bent him back over the sink. When the vortex left his brain, he tried to wash his hair clean in the sink. He knew he’d fall in the shower, and wasn’t about to attempt it.

As he worked the lavender liquid hand soap into his hair, he began to weep. Once started, he couldn’t stop, his breath coming in heavy sobs until he couldn’t breathe at all. Grappling for emotional control, Connor wrung his hair out, the water pink. He looked back in the mirror. Blood tears ran down his face. Ridges, like horn, pushed against his forehead trying to cut through the skin. Connor let out a strangled cry.

“You having a bad trip?” Archer’s voice floated in from the other room. “Too bad, mine’s great.”

Trip? It was so hard for Connor to sift through delusion and reality. But had he ever been truly delusional? The demonic mirror image was nothing more than a side effect of the candy rolling he was doing for Archer, who liked the potent synergistic mix of LSD and Ecstasy. Connor had been flying when he started servicing Archer, which helped the process along. Archer’s thing was pain, his own thankfully. He liked to get whacked out on the candy rolling, and then have Connor push pins into his balls until Archer’s testicles looked like a cloved ham. He paid by the pin and all and all, it was one of Connor’s better requests. For the most part he didn’t have to touch Archer much, and the vampire liked to feed through Connor’s non-shooting arm. 

Ignoring what his fucked up mind was telling him, Connor staggered into his crib. He took off the leather ball separator and cock cage, tossing it back into his bag of toys. He put on the string thong in case he decided to really hurt himself and street hustle. Archer was giggling at something he was hallucinating on the ceiling as Connor dressed. Archer was his last client of the day. Connor didn’t have a window in his crib but he knew it couldn’t be night yet. He wondered how his clients got here. Through the sewers, like rats, like his father?

“Smythe will show you out later, Archer,” Connor told the vampire who already knew that. It was how it always was. Archer was always the last trick of the day so he could safely drowse away the LSD, Connor suspected. He gazed at the creature, trying not to look at its swollen, pinned scrotum and wondered what Dorion would do if he turned Archer to ash. It would be so easy.

“Whatever.” Archer waved him off.

Connor shrugged and left. He paused outside the door. He thought he scented something familiar, something dangerous but dismissed it as another LSD hallucination. He was still seeing himself dripping blood as he walked and prayed that it was a hallucination and not a weeping artery from a vampire bite. He headed down the stairs, hearing Archer cry out. “Who’s having the bad trip now, asshole?” he muttered, almost falling down the steps. Connor stopped at Honey’s desk. She was packing up for the day. The late shift receptionist would take over for the rest of the evening.

She glanced over at him, blowing a prodigious bubble before cracking her gum. “You done, sweetie?”

“And then some,” he said. “Come on, Honey. I’ll walk you to your car. It’s not safe around here.”

She beamed with those amazingly white teeth of hers. “You’re too good to be here, Angelboy.”

“No, this is where I belong. It’s you who needs a better job.”

Honey snorted, hoisting up her body-bag-sized purse. “Tell me about it. Want me to drop you off somewhere?”

Connor shrugged. “Why not?” He walked her to her little Fiesta and got in. “I appreciate the lift, Honey. Take me to the Passage.”

She shuddered. “That’s such a nasty bar.”

“I know but I have something I need to do,” he said, thinking he really didn’t. He didn’t need to score any smack. The one thing about Aurielle and Entropy, they usually brought him enough to keep him for days, and he had no doubts now that some low-level runner died to provide the vampires with the drug. Worse, he could give a shit about that loss. What he really wanted now was enough alcohol to drown in since LSD, ecstasy and heroin had all failed to erase his life.

“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong, Angelboy? You’re not yourself.”

“No, I’m a whole new man,” he said bitterly, feeling the tears trying to make a reappearance. If they did, he’d never shake free of Honey.

She pursed her lips as she pulled away from the curb. The sun had begun to set. “I’m not sure I like this new you. You still have on part of your costume, you know?”

Connor stared at her, trying to ignore the flowers growing out of her head. The petals kept winking at him. “Huh?”

She ticked a finger off a bell on his collar. “You’re wasted, love.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely fucked up.” He slumped against the car door. Maybe he could just sleep there for a week. Sleep might be just as good as alcohol.

“I should take you home. Where are you flopping now?” Honey thumbed on the radio. “Probably some place I don’t want to drive.”

“I’ve moved up in the world, Honey.” He grinned. “I’m staying at the Hyperion Hotel.”

That made no impression on Honey. “Don’t know it.”

“Old place, probably home to movie stars from the 20’s or something.” Connor sucked in a deep breath. “Nah, don’t take me home. I’m not ready for that. Just drop me off at the Passage.”

“You sure you don’t want to come home with me? I’ll fix you a dinner that’ll stick to your ribs.” She patted his chest, and he tried not to flinch as she hit some of the whip marks left by Entropy. “That’s what you really need.”

“Some other night, Hon. I’m bad company right now.”

She pouted at him but gave in. Connor was grateful for that. He wasn’t blind to the attraction Honey had for him. He didn’t care that she was a transwoman. He was pansexual himself though with a preference for women. At the moment, he preferred not to be touched unless he was earning. Even Night Rain was a client. He hadn’t gotten naked with her for any pleasure of his own. She had paid him well. He couldn’t treat Honey like a client, and he preferred her to be a friend rather than a lover. He needed that more.

How screwed up was it, that he could shove his own desires – not that he had had any in years - into a hole in order to satisfy his cravings for the drug? He felt like vomiting, but the only thing currently in his stomach after a day of work would only disgust him more should it make a reappearance. Honey dropped him off at the dive bar reluctantly, gave him a pat on his sore ass as he got out of the car and made him promise to eat something. He lied to her and said he would, and then disappeared into the sea of smoky, stinking human waste inside the bar.

 

X X X

Connor grimaced, seeing a flashing light slowing as it progressed up the street. He tossed the cigar down the sewer drain. He had been smoking with a couple of idiots he knew from the Passage. He had traded Jerry Goode sex for the chance to smoke with them, desperate to find something to numb his brain. The cheap whiskey had done nothing but curdle his stomach more. Goode had been a vicious little bastard in the bathroom stall as Connor broke his own rules about what he wouldn’t do. He had been quickly reminded why he had made the rules in the first place.

Goode was a waste of skin who could have been more than he was, intelligent but lazy. His father was a veterinarian who put his nasty offspring in the perfect position to have access to Ketamine. Connor turned down the offer of Special K for sex. He’d only ever taken the drug once, and the near-death-like experience had been so horrifying, he never wanted to go down the K hole again. Goode had given him a marijuana cigar instead, and Connor felt like snapping the man’s neck in exchange for the battering he took. His forehead still wept blood from how hard Goode had slammed him against the metal stall door. Goode would eventually kill someone, Connor didn’t doubt. Maybe he already had. He almost cared.

But he cared more about how fast Goode and their other companion peeled out, leaving Connor to face the slowing cop car by himself. Not that Connor didn’t try to get up and run. All he managed to do was trip and bust open his head more on the sidewalk. He looked up at the cop and found himself staring at Kate.

“You had your lights on just to capture me?” He smirked.

“No, I put them on to scare off the other riffraff so I didn’t have to deal with them. I called a sector car for them, so let’s get you into my car before they get here and are tempted to haul you in for being under the influence.” Her nostrils flared. “Of multiple things.” 

Kate held out her hand to him and Connor let her help him up. Why not go home? Let Angel see what he had done. Wasn’t that why he had let himself be this badly abused? This was one of the worst days in his life, and it deserved to be shared. Kate stuffed him into the front seat and he wasn’t sure what he made of that.

“We’ve been looking all day for you,” she said, getting a square of gauze out of the med-kit and let him hold it to his bloody forehead, “And most of the night. You look terrible. I’m going to take you to a hospital.”

“No!” What would a hospital do to him? Would he end up jailed or worse, committed again? What would they do when he started healing up before their eyes. “I heal like a vampire, Kate. You can’t let a hospital see that.” Oh hell, why would she know about vampires? “You know what they are right? You work with Angel.”

She nodded. “I was thinking of the Watcher’s private hospital. It’s used to the unusual.”

“No,” he repeated, thinking it would be the wisest thing to go, let a doctor care for him. What blood he had left, he had made toxic. He had stepped over a boundary somewhere, and he knew it. He felt the wrongness in him, growing even before Kate had appeared, he just hadn’t cared. Dying in an alley somewhere was what he deserved. Wasn’t that where he had started life?

Kate gave him a critical look. He could see she wasn’t happy but she didn’t argue. Instead, she turned on her lights and sirens, and he wondered if that was legal for her to use it to escort him back to the hotel. He didn’t care about that either. Sitting safely in her car, he stopped struggling to hold himself together. He thought he heard her making a call but he blacked out. Connor didn’t think he was out long when his head bounced off the side window with a painful crack, or else Kate would have been at the hospital whether or not he liked it.

“You called Angel, didn’t you?” Boy, he didn’t want Angel there, and at the same time, his heart demanded his father’s presence. 

“You need medical attention if you missed that whole conversation.” Kate sounded worried.

“Willow’s a doctor,” he said, dismissively. “Angel’ll be at the hotel then.”

“He’s concerned about you.”

Connor laughed, feeling his bile rise at that statement because he knew it was true. “Pull over, Kate.”

She didn’t argue, rocketing to the curb. He barely got the door open before a stream of whiskey mixed with blood poured out of his mouth. He felt her hands on his back as he retched, wondering what had ruptured in him this time to make the blood. The whiskey had probably irritated his bad stomach. He coughed and sputtered as the vomited whiskey oozed into his nose. Tears sprung to his eyes as finally he was dry heaving.

Kate helped him back into the seat, and then offered him some tissues. He wiped his face, letting his head droop back. “Sorry. Drank too much.”

“I’m not taking you to the hotel.” Her eyes narrowed. “You need to go to the hospital, Connor.”

“Take me home, Kate. You can’t stop me if I decide I’m not going to cooperate. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want you to shoot me to stop me.”

He could hear her gritting her teeth but she took him back to the hotel. He didn’t wait for her to help him out of the car. He staggered up the walk and fell on the stairs. She hauled him up, stronger than she looked. He broke free and made it into the lobby before collapsing on the marble floor. “I’m so fucked up,” he muttered, and then looked up, seeing his audience. He grinned. “Hey Faith, Wes, where’ve you been hiding?” He heard Faith whisper an obscenity under her breath. He watched Dawn go up the stairs. Maybe she was going for Lorelei since Willow was already in the lobby standing there with Buffy and a man Connor didn’t know. Maybe Dawn was just running away. He didn’t blame her. Both Willow and Angel moved toward him, and Connor flung up a hand. “Don’t touch me.”

Angel dragged Willow to a halt. She didn’t look happy about it. Kate’s cell phone rang and she moved off to take the call. Angel inched closer, holding a hand out to him. He drew it back, seeing Connor’s hostile look. Connor tried to get up but settled for sitting up, drawing his knees to his chest. He leaned on them, unsure if he could get up under his own power at this point.

“Connor, I’m so-”

“Shut up!” Connor snarled before Angel could get the words out. “If you say you’re sorry, I swear I’ll kill you now.”

Angel swallowed hard. Connor saw Buffy’s eyes hardening. Gunn wore a sneer, and Connor was glad Fred was probably with her son, given how hard she had been on him once upon a time. It was just as well Cordelia and Xander were nowhere to be seen. He didn’t want Cordy to see him like this.

“I think you need medical attention,” Angel said.

“You sound like Kate.” Connor laughed harshly. The room whipped around him, and he wasn’t sure he was still sitting up or if he had fallen over. His stomach rebelled but he swallowed back the bile. 

“How much did you shoot up?” Buffy asked. “Your arm’s a mess.”

Connor laughed harder, holding out both arms. “Think I’m ambidextrous enough to shoot up in both arms?”

Buffy looked at him uncertainly. “Maybe.”

“They’re bite marks,” the curly-haired, older man said.

“Give the stranger a brownie,” Connor said.

“You let a vampire...” Buffy trailed off as Dawn reappeared with Lorelei.

“How many?” This time Angel didn’t stop. He squatted down and slipped past Connor’s feeble attempts to shove him away. Angel tried to grab hold of the collar around Connor’s neck.

Connor batted his hand away feeling a tug of magic against him. Oh, that damn anti-demon spell must still be in effect. He took off the collar, and threw it in Angel’s face. “Three.” He rubbed the wounds on his neck, and then trailed his hands over his bitten thighs. “They were thirsty.”

“I’ll call the hospital,” Willow said. “Any idea what blood type you are, Connor?”

He nodded. “AB positive.”

“Well, at least you can take anything we have, good to know,” Willow said. “Kate, can you take him to the infirmary?”

“I tried once and now, I can’t.” Her voice rang with apology. “I just got called out. Our killer’s struck again.”

“Where now?” Buffy asked.

“A brothel, one of Dorion’s. Human prostitutes, demon johns, instead of her more usual,” Kate said. “Killed two of the girls, and the room that looks to be the point of entry was empty except for a pile of ash on the bed. Hands up those who think that she caught a vampire.”

“Oh, damn,” Connor muttered, trying to get up but the message didn’t seem to translate from brain to legs. “Fuck.”

“What?” Angel put a hand on his shoulder. Connor flinched in pain. “You know something?”

“I know you’d better have Gunn get his kid the hell out of here.” Connor tried to get up again, and could barely straighten his legs. “She really is following me.” 

“You worked...”Angel’s face darkened. “The vampire was your trick.”

“Yeah.” Connor wrinkled his battered brow. “I don’t understand how she didn’t find me here but found me so fast there...”

“Magic. There are protective spells all over the hotel. The signature of the hotel is masked, even smells are altered. I wanted this to be a safe place,” Angel said.

“She can’t track me by scent then...or any of you, whichever is her real target. Damn it, not that I care Archer got dusted but the girls didn’t deserve that,” Connor said.

“Archer, the Scouse freak? Likes pins,” the man Connor didn’t know asked.

“Spike?” Buffy turned to the man.

Angel’s face crinkled. “Ugh, him?”

Connor savored that disgust. His dad probably hung out with Archer once upon a time. “Yeah, that’s him. What the hell is after me? You can tell me the truth now.”

“We were hoping you could tell us,” Dawn said, “Now that you truly understand what you saw that night wasn’t a delusion.”

“Oh, great.” Connor snorted, trying to get up again. He almost made it before failing, and Angel caught him. Connor’s shirt pulled at his healing welts, and he couldn’t keep in the cry of pain. Angel pulled up his shirt, revealing the deep ruts Entropy’s whip had left on his back and ribs. 

“Willow, have a look.” Angel said, holding Connor upright so Willow could examine him.

“Kate, are you sure you can’t swing him past the infirmary on your way to the crime scene?” Willow asked as she looked him over. He was content to allow that.

Kate bit her lip, and then her phone rang again. “Lockley,” she said. Her face paled, her eyes narrowing. “The task force was already deployed to the other location. Tell me you aren’t serious. Fine, call Perry back and I’ll meet him at the new scene.”

“What happened?” Angel asked.

“Connor, the two lowlifes you were with when I caught you guys smoking the pot,” Kate said.

“Not pot,” Connor mumbled. “Water.”

“How do you smoke water?” Wes interjected.

“He’s talking about marijuana soaked in embalming fluid,” Kate clarified.

“You smoked formaldehyde?” Angel rocked back, letting Connor go. He would have tipped over if not for Willow. “What the hell does that do to your brain?”

“Not enough to wipe it out.” Connor canted his eyes up to meet Kate’s. “Goode and Rusch are dead, ain’t they?”

“Goode is and the cop who had him in the sector car. Witnesses said it was a tall woman,” Kate said. “I have to get out there. I’ll be gone all night, especially now that a cop’s been killed. I can’t spare the time to transport Connor.”

“Go,” Angel said.

“I’ll bring one of our cars around,” Dawn said. “We can get him to the hospital.”

“Thanks, Dawn,” Angel said as Willow fastened her fingers around Connor’s wrist.

“You take me to that hospital, and she’ll find me. She’ll kill the staff,” Connor said. He didn’t care that low lives were dead. He rejoiced at the passing of Goode but he didn’t want innocents to be hurt, especially on his account.

“It’s our private hospital. It has the same spells as here,” Giles said. “If she can’t find you here, she won’t find you there.”

“I’m more worried about her tracking down Kate’s car,” Angel said. “I should have had Buffy go with her.”

“I can always follow her,” Buffy said. 

“You’re too tired to do that,” Angel said after deliberating a minute. “And Faith doesn’t know L.A. well enough to get there.”

“I’ll take Faith,” Gunn said. “If you want to go, that is.”

“I’m rested now. You don’t need help with Connor?” Faith nodded his way.

“We can handle this,” Willow said, letting Connor’s hand drop. “Your pulse is way too fast. What else did you take outside of the water?”

“Embalming fluid,” Angel roared as it sank in more fully. “Why?”

“Why not?” Connor grinned at him, feeling triumphant seeing the look in his father’s eye. “Alcohol.” He turned to Willow. “Threw up most of it. LSD, Ecstasy, and the heroin, of course.”

Willow scowled as Angel made a disgusted noise. “You’re totally toxic. We should get him to the infirmary now.”

Angel nodded and moved to scoop Connor up. Connor almost managed to catch him in the face with an open hand, too weak to ball it up. Angel reared back and the spell pushed Connor down, and for a moment Connor thought he was going to hit him back. He wanted Angel to do it even if that spell wouldn’t allow it.

“I don’t want you touching me. Just leave me alone.”

“You’re too awkward for Buffy to carry easily. I’ll take you as far as the car, and if you don’t want me to go to the hospital I won’t.” Angel’s eyes radiated nothing but love and Connor despised it.

“I don’t want you to go,” Connor said, stubbornly.

“Then I won’t.” Angel lifted him up, cradling him to his chest. His nostrils flared. “So many...” he muttered, and Connor knew he was referring to the johns. “Why did you do this to yourself tonight? You could have killed yourself.”

Connor didn’t expect the sudden dam burst of emotion. He couldn’t stop his hand from curling in Angel’s shirt. The tears had no brakes. He couldn’t swallow the shuddering sob that shook his whole body. Angel’s arms tightened around him.

“I think that was the point, Angel,” Lorelei said softly.

Angel didn’t say anything. He hurried out to the car Dawn had brought around and eased him into the back seat. Connor almost didn’t let go. He hated himself for taking comfort in Angel’s embrace. He almost asked Angel to go with him. Instead the words out of his mouth were like a razor. “Now get away from me.”

Angel did it without protest. Connor saw the tears in his father’s eyes and stubbornly averted his gaze. His hold on consciousness didn’t last until he arrived at the hospital.


	15. Aftermath

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

_I’ve seen the needle_  
and the damage done  
A little part of it in everyone  
But every junkie’s  
like a settin’ sun.  
**The Needle and the Damage Done - Neil Young**

_  
_

 

Angel hated hospitals. Even though Ashworth Memorial -named after a Watcher family Giles admired - didn’t have the horrible reek of most hospitals, it was still astringent and unpleasant to his sensitive nose. Like the Hyperion, Ashworth was once a twenties hotel, small, private and well-suited to treating sick and injured Watchers and Slayers. Lorelei and Willow both practiced here, and there was always a skeletal staff of nurses. Other Watcher doctors would rotate through the hospital as the need arose.

Connor wasn’t alone in the building, but nearly so. The eerie silence only heightened the creepy atmosphere for Angel. Of course, it didn’t help that he kept expecting Connor to just die from the things he had done to himself, since he was barely breathing by the time they got to the hospital thanks to all the drugs and alcohol. Once Willow assured him Connor wasn’t in immediate danger, Angel had to get out of the hospital before he lost his mind. 

He went to the crime scene, which was fresh enough to track the demoness. Her scent was distinct, musky, almost pleasant. He unfortunately lost her underground a few miles from the Hyperion. She was obviously tracking Connor. Angel made the decision to give Kate a car from his fleet, hoping the demoness was so locked on Connor’s scent that she had dismissed Kate’s. He’d also insist on her staying at the hotel instead of her apartment.

He headed back to the crime scene after losing his prey and told Faith and Gunn his findings. Afterwards, he raced back to the Ashworth, even though he knew Willow or Lorelei would have called him if Connor’s condition had changed. Angel was surprised to see Buffy at the hospital. He expected her to try and catch up on her sleep. 

Eventually, she did. They found an empty room, pushed together the hospital beds, threw a bed spread over the window curtains to further darken the room, pulled the privacy curtains and tumbled into the beds worn to the bone. Angel kept his word and didn’t approach Connor during the night except once. 

Willow kept him apprised, even waking him twice to do so. She had made the decision that Connor didn’t need whole blood, afraid that his demonic aspects might object to the human blood. She gave him plasma instead to boost his fluid levels. His son, other than the one time he kicked into a really bad trip that required Angel and Buffy to restrain him, slept most of the night.

Come morning, an exhausted-looking Willow popped in to tell him Connor was awake and wanted to leave. It was all Angel could do not to barge into Connor’s room and insist his son stay put. Angel prowled the hallway under Buffy’s somewhat irritated eye. She hated when he paced.

“You can tell him he can come in,” Connor’s voice floated down the hall.

Lorelei poked her head out and waved Angel on. He wondered if Connor could scent him in the corridor or did his child just assume he’d be around. Angel went in. Connor was far too pale, looking very small in the hospital gown, trying to get out of bed. Willow had one arm hostage, taking his blood pressure.

“How long have you been here?” Connor asked.

“I stayed away,” Angel said, side stepping the question so not to irritate him.

Connor rolled his eyes. “In the next room?”

Angel shrugged. “Down the hall.”

“I guess it was a good thing,” Connor conceded. “Willow said I freaked out on a bad trip. I don’t really remember.”

“Buffy and I did have to help out. It was the only time I didn’t do as you asked,” Angel said quickly, knowing he was being ridiculous, trying to curry favor. He couldn’t bear it if Connor walked back out of his life so for now Angel was willing to do anything to keep him happy. Buffy put a comforting hand on his arm.

“It’s okay,” Connor said, and Angel allowed himself to relax. “I just hope I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“You didn’t,” Willow said, turning to Angel. “Connor doesn’t want to stay in the hospital.”

“You can’t make me.” Connor’s eyes slid over to look at Lorelei, the one person who could in fact, make him stay if she committed him for trying to hurt himself. “I just want to go home.”

“The problem is you’re homeless,” Willow reminded him.

“I can’t come back to the hotel?” Connor looked up at Angel his mouth sagging. His eyes were like big, blue marbles.

The fragility, the fear in his son’s voice tore at Angel’s heart. “You can come back, Connor,” Angel said, swiftly. “We weren’t sure you’d want to.”

“I don’t know what I want but I’m not dumb. I need a place to go. I can barely sort out the three or four different Connors. I can only maintain verticality for a few minutes. I’m not ready to try to find a new place to crash. I don’t want to stay here. I hate hospitals. They smell.” Connor made a face. “I knew you’d let me stay but I’m not so sure about everyone else. You’re not the only person who lives in the hotel.”

“We’ve sort of had this conversation. For now, you can come back. If the rest of my friends want you to go, Wolfram and Hart has places we could put you,” Angel said. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You still don’t want to talk to me, do you?” Angel couldn’t keep the defeat out of his voice.

“Not really up to it by any stretch of the imagination,” Connor said, and Angel thought he heard a twinge of regret. Maybe it was his imagination working overtime.

“Okay, if you ever do feel up to it...”

“I’m sure you’ll be hard to miss.” Connor glanced at Willow. “Can I go now?”

“I’d like to talk to you about your health a little first, and take one last chance at making you stay here,” Willow replied.

“What difference does it make, here or at the hotel?” Connor shivered a little on the bed. “You and Lorelei can watch me there as good as here.”

“No nurses,” Willow said.

“No need,” Connor scoffed. “You have Buffy, Dawn and a whole host of others. It’s not like you guys will let me alone if you thought I’d be a danger to myself.”

Buffy made a face at his assuming she’d be butting into his life.

“Speaking of that, I need to get some Narcan if you are going to the hotel,” Willow said.

“Narcan?” Angel asked.

“In case I o.d., she gives it to me, and I wake up,” Connor said.

“Exactly. Now, if you two would like to step out so I can talk with my patient,” Willow shooed Angel and Buffy towards the door. Angel hesitated.

“They can stay,” Connor said.

“Are you sure?” Lorelei asked.

“I don’t care if they hear. I’ll sign release papers if Willow wants.”

“Okay then,” Willow said dubiously, giving the couple a look. Angel didn’t move, and he didn’t think Willow really expected he would, not now that he had been invited to stay. “I’ve already given you some methadone and the blood work’s back. I don’t have to tell you you’re anemic. Feeding three vampires will do that to you. The rest of the blood work was amazingly good, given your circumstances. You don’t have AIDS or hepatitis, but you told me that much.”

“I got tested a couple of times a year since I’m not exactly low risk,” Connor replied, and Angel hated to think about it.

“Exactly. You are severely malnourished, however, and addiction aside, that’s your biggest problem. I would like to run some heart tests once you’re recovered from the bloodletting to be sure your body hasn’t cannibalized your heart muscle to stay alive. I want you to go on a high protein diet while you’re at the hotel,” Willow said but all Angel heard was heart damage. His legs felt as strong as warm Jell-O.

Connor pulled a long face. “Eating makes me sick.”

“And I’ll give you a pill to help you gain weight and high protein drinks that will be easier on your stomach,” Willow said sternly, not taking that as an excuse.

“I don’t want to.” Connor’s chin jutted out stubbornly, and Angel looked to Buffy. Her eyes said ‘do not get involved.’

“Connor, look at me.” Willow’s voice held snap. “You weight ninety-nine pounds. You will die and soon, if you can’t force yourself to eat.”

Connor refused to look at her, in spite of the command. Buffy put an arm around Angel, and he realized she was reacting to his horror. His child didn’t even weight in the triple digits. He was literally starving to death, and there was nothing Angel could do. Angel felt his non-beating heart clench and his lungs freeze.

“Do you understand, Connor?” Willow asked.

Connor started to open his mouth, and then his eyes fastened on Lorelei. Angel could practically hear the retort Connor swallowed. His son wanted to die but knew if he said it, Lorelei would commit him. Angel didn’t see that as a bad idea. It would probably save his son’s life but he saw the terror in Connor’s eyes at the very thought of it. Angel could only wonder what made Connor so afraid of the psychiatric ward. “I get it. Can we go now?” That came out entirely as a whine.

“We can go. Your clothes were pretty much toast, though,” Willow said. “We saved the boots.”

“I stopped back at the hotel after tracking the demoness. You weren’t wrong, Connor. She was following you but I lost the trail,” Angel said. “I got you some clothes. Let me go get them.”

Angel came back with another pair of sweats and a white undershirt. “Sorry, grabbed it in a rush. I know these are Buffy’s house-cleaning sweats but I knew better than to try and figure out which of her shirts might be disposable so the t-shirt’s mine. It’ll be big.”

Connor held it up, giving it the gimlet eye. “You wear wife beaters?”

Angel scowled. “It’s an undershirt, just put it on.”

They all left him so Connor could change. Angel was only mildly surprised that Connor didn’t just change his mind and go out the window. He looked hopelessly lost in Angel’s shirt and he was collapsed back on the bed, sweating from the effort of changing out of the hospital gown. Willow made one last attempt to persuade Connor to stay in the hospital but he wasn’t going to go for that. She made him sign some papers at the nurses’ desk, and Angel saw Connor palm something off a nursing cart but since it only contained toiletries he didn’t say anything about it.

Angel hated leaving but he couldn’t go with them in the car. Because of an accident tying up traffic, he beat the car home. When they finally arrived, Willow took the time to tell him that Connor had slept most of the way and wanted to go up to bed now, which was exactly what she felt he should do. Willow had Connor’s boots in her hands, and Angel saw his son was only wearing the socks from the hospital, the kind with rubber grips on the bottom. Buffy helped Connor stay on his feet but looked like she was likely to lose her grip as Connor’s strength failed. Angel took over the supportive role, and worried when Connor didn’t even protest it.

“Angel, wait,” Willow said, and then handed Connor a little something in a wrapper. “It’s a high protein cookie. Just one. Eat it before you go to sleep.”

Connor made a face. “But.”

“No buts, eat that cookie,” Willow said, handing Angel Connor’s boots.

“You’d better, Connor,” Buffy said. “That’s Willow’s Resolve Face. When she’s got that one on, you do as she says.”

Connor sighed and nodded. As he climbed the stairs, Connor nearly dropped the little brown bag he was carrying. Juggling the boots and his grip on his son, Angel took it from him and set it and the boots on the dresser in Connor’s borrowed room. He helped Connor down so his son wouldn’t topple into bed like a sack of rocks. 

“You’re shaking,” Angel said.  
“I’m really cold.”

Angel nodded his head. “Blood loss. Get under the covers. I’ll go find you another blanket.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. Eat your cookie.”

Angel came back with an old comforter that he knew could be ditched if need be. Connor was still sitting on the edge of the bed, chewing slowly, looking at the shiny wrapper as if it had betrayed him. “Problem?”

“This tastes horrid. Here, see if you’d eat this.” Connor thrust the remaining cookie hunk at him.

Angel shook his head. “Just eat it, Connor. You have one bite left. Besides, nothing has taste to it for me.”

“Bet this does, all bad,” his son protested but ate the last bite anyhow. 

Angel swooped Connor under the covers with one smooth move, ignoring the protests. He left Connor the hospital grippy socks that his son was wearing sans boots. Angel tucked the sheets in, and then tossed the comforter on top.

Connor wiggled an arm out. “Think you could loosen it up a bit? I can’t even breathe.”

“You’ll be warm,” Angel protested. “I need to go downstairs and see if we can find anything to go on for the demoness. You’ll have to tell us more about what she looked like now that you...”

“Know I really saw a demon, and I’m not fucking nuts thanks to your little magic trick,” Connor spat.

Angel tried not to look hurt. “I wouldn’t put it that way but yes.”

“Maybe Dawn can draw it up.” Connor suggested, a sudden inspired glint in his eyes. The anger went back into its cage. “She’s an artist.”

“Like a police sketch? That’s a good idea. She’s not here right now but hold that thought...if you can stand talking to me for a little longer,” Angel said.

Connor snorted. “Like I’m going to get a choice, right?”

“I’ll be right back,” Angel said. Connor looked almost asleep by the time Angel returned with a sketch pad. He sat on the end of the double bed, lacking anywhere else to roost. He had forgotten how hard and uncomfortable the beds in the unused rooms were. He’d have to get an egg crate or something so his son would have a nice place to sleep. 

Connor squirmed under the covers. “You draw?”

“I’m actually very good at it,” Angel said with no real sense of boasting. He was stating fact. “Why don’t you start with what you remember about her face, long? Oval?” Angel started penciling in the details Connor related to him. His son had an eye for detail and even though Angel could see it wearing on him to describe the demoness slowly, Connor kept at it. He needed rest to let his body heal but Connor seemed determine to do what he could to help without wasting even more time. Too many people had already died. The creature that formed on the page was alien to Angel. “How’s this?” He handed Connor the rough sketch.

Connor’s eyebrows raised. “This is good.”

“Dawn and I have done art together. Maybe one day you’ll want to see it,” Angel said proudly, and then remembered the task at hand. “Does this look like her?”

“Very much so. She has a musky smell, and she speaks English like it’s a second language if that helps. Well, she didn’t really say much but I was left with that impression. I think those claws might be retractable but I can’t swear to it.” Connor’s eyes met his. “Angel, I hit her with all I had, and it didn’t stop her. I might not be as strong now as I used to be but you know sure as shit I can hit hard.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Angel stood up. “I’ll take this to Giles. It’ll help. And Connor, I know you don’t really want to talk to me but I do want to talk to you. It doesn’t have to be today but it will happen.”

Connor’s expression changed, anger and stubbornness mixing. The change in mood happened so fast, Angel was stunned but he knew the look well. Business done, Connor was ready to fight again. “Yeah, I can just bet I know what you want to say, like I’m going to change my life for you.”

“That isn’t what I wasn’t going to say. I know what heroin does to you, Connor. Even if you wanted to quit, right now that’s not going to happen, not with all you’ve just been through. Remembering your past...I can only imagine how traumatized you are. That isn’t the time to try and go sober.” Angel saw his expression getting angrier. Connor didn’t want him to be understanding but he forged ahead anyhow. “I think you want to stop yourself. You told Buffy as much and when you’re ready, you won’t be alone this time.”

Connor seemed to be waiting for more speech-making. When none was forthcoming, his face went positively grim. “So that’s it? No big speeches about what I do for a living? About how I spend my time. Come on, you know you want to.”

Angel shook his head, unable to hold back a sardonic laugh. 

“What?” Connor practically glowed with indignant rage.

“I know that look, that tone. You are so like your mother right now.” Angel watched as Connor sneered. That curl of the lip reminded Angel of himself. It was the only physical attribute Connor had that wasn’t pure Darla, well, that and the hair color, which was a blend of him and Darla. “She’d do the same thing. I’d get that look whenever she wanted to pick a fight, and I wasn’t interested. She’d keep it up until she got her fight. If I don’t go out that door, we’ll be fighting so I’m going.” Angel saw the furious look building on Connor’s face.

Connor tried to sit up but couldn’t fight past the tucked-in sheets. He finally broke through partially, getting up on one elbow. “You think you know me?”

“No, but I know you were out to hurt yourself last night just so you could hurt me. You went too far and now you’re mad. I’m not lecturing you about what you do. We’re not going to have that fight now. Does what you did make me upset? Of course it does but fighting with you isn’t going to help. You need to rest. You can pick a fight later,” Angel said, and Connor flopped back on the bed, impotently.

Connor twisted on the bed, half burying his face in the pillow. “Do you think Lorelei would talk to me?”

Angel paused and turned back. “Do you mean professionally? I’ll ask. I don’t really see her saying no.”

Connor didn’t say anything, just sighed softly.

“There is one thing I want you to do though, son,” Angel said, and Connor made a sound that might have wanted to be a laugh.

Connor lifted his head off the pillow, looking like a mop of hair with eyes. “Big surprise. What? Stop whoring myself out Dorion’s? Don’t let vampires bite me.”

“I was going to say I want you to follow Willow’s instructions. You do what she says,” Angel said, refusing to take any of the bait Connor was scattering about, no matter how much it infuriated his child.

Connor looked up at him surprised. “It makes me sick.”

“And she’ll help you with that but you are going to eat,” Angel said, and Connor burrowed deeper in the bedding as if he could hide there. “I’ll be back downstairs if you need anything.”

Connor turned his back on him, and then said so softly Angel might have missed it if he were human. “I’m sorry.”

He crossed back over to the bed, cupping a hand on his son’s head. “For what?”

Connor shifted again, edging away from Angel. “Not for hitting you, if that’s what you’re thinking. You deserved that.”

“Fine, I deserved that,” Angel said, his patience beginning to wear. He had forgotten how difficult Connor could be.

“I’m sorry about what I said in your office, when I thought you wanted to be a client.” His blue eyes dimmed to an ugly grey as his voice broke. “You didn’t need to hear that.”

Angel soothed Connor’s back. “It’s okay, son. I forgive you. You didn’t know. You were just reading the situation in a way that fits your world, and while I might not like it, I know what it’s like to do what you have to in order to survive. I don’t blame you for what you said and thank you for apologizing. Connor...son?” 

Connor didn’t reply, his eyes closed. Angel listened for a moment, noting the regularity of his breathing. He had lost the fight to stay awake. Tears pricking his eyes, Angel tucked his son in even tighter, and then took the artist pad downstairs. Almost everyone was in the library except for Robin and Dawn who were at the school, and Kate who was either at the station or maybe getting a chance to sleep. Willow was missing as well, and Angel was sure she was napping.

“You okay, Peaches?” Spike asked, obviously noting the redness of Angel’s eyes.

Buffy came over to him, putting a hand on his chest. “What did he do to you?”

Angel wasn’t quite prepared for the accusation in her tone. “Nothing. He apologized for...well, never mind. The important thing is this.” Angel tossed the sketch pad on the table. 

Giles picked it up. “Interesting. I’ve never seen the likes of her.” He passed it to Wes and Spike. 

“Neither have I. Connor said she had a musky smell, which I can attest to, possibly has retractable claws and withstood his attack,” Angel said. 

“And I remember him hitting like a crosstown bus,” Faith said.

“Exactly,” Angel turned to Lorelei. “Lorelei, Connor wanted to know if he could talk to you as a patient. Don’t feel you have to say yes because he’s....”

“I’d love to,” she broke in. “I couldn’t imagine a more interesting patient. Did he want to talk to me now?”

“He fell asleep mid-conversation with me,” Angel said. “He was in a bad mood anyhow.” He scowled. “Maybe a good rest will improve that.”

“Were you fighting?” Lorelei’s green eyes studied him intently.

“He would have liked that. He tried to provoke it but I wouldn’t go for it. He’s good at pushing buttons though,” Angel admitted. 

“I remember that much,” Faith muttered.

Angel ignored her. “I did give him one directive, which maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Which was?” Lorelei asked nonjudgmentally.

“To listen to Willow and eat. He wasn’t happy about it, and he might not listen. Maybe I really screwed that up, but...I don’t know why I had to say it,” Angel parked himself in a chair.

“Because it’s needed,” Lorelei said. “Either he’ll purposely not eat because you said to or he’ll do it to please you. Just from last night, I can tell Connor could go either way where you’re concerned. He wants your approval and at the same time hates himself for it...but that’s just a guess. I haven’t really talked with him in depth.”

“And you couldn’t tell me a thing if you had,” Angel said. “I know. And for now, I’m content that he’s resting comfortably. We’ve got bigger concerns.” He gestured at the sketch, not really feeling like it was a bigger concern to him but he had to make it so. They divided up the work and started their search for Connor’s demoness.

X X X

Connor woke, feeling even worse now than he had at the beginning of the day. His head throbbed, tormented by the hangover he so richly deserved and nightmares that he didn’t. Connor could barely peel back the covers his father had tucked him in so tightly. Finally free, he tottered into the bathroom and took care of his body’s most urgent needs. However, he ignored his own reek, as much as he wanted a bath, until he climbed on top the dresser and fished his works out from the ceiling panel he had hidden it behind. 

Connor shot up to take the edge off, hid his drugs again, and then went back into the bathroom. What he wouldn’t do for another set of clothes since these ones had picked up the scent of his unwashed body. Willow or a nurse must have cleaned him a little last night but he still stank of sweat and sex, crusts of fluids and lube still clinging to him. It would take more than a shower to get clean.

He took the shampoo he had been given before and dumped some into the tub with so much hot water it hurt when he climbed in. His skin flushed rose, which was better in comparison to the clotted cream hue his flesh had. Connor scrubbed hard, drained the tub and refilled it. He grabbed the lice shampoo he’d been given as well. He sank up to his chin in the hot soapy water.

He wished he could knit himself together but that task was beyond him. Too much blood loss, too many drugs, too much exhaustion, he could barely think but the hot water was helping. The hard knots in his body were letting go. Peace didn’t come but he didn’t expect it to.

As much as he didn’t want to, he still had to face his father. Why was it when there was a big bad to fight, he and Angel could pull together but when it came to just talking they froze up? Worse, they became antagonistic, he even more so than his father. Angel was probably somewhere practicing what he was going to say to him when they had that inevitable talk. Connor tried to think of what he would do.

Provoke another battle? Angel wasn’t wrong about that. He had been spoiling for a fight, and once the work details were done, he had gone for the jugular. And the more Angel resisted, the angrier he got. Connor didn’t understand it. No, he did. Part of him wanted to hate Angel, kill him. He had been raised for it. No one forgot a lifetime of hatred, not easily but no small part of him loved Angel and had done since the moment the vampire took the shotgun blast for him.

The conflict threatened to rip him open, and Connor didn’t know how to reconcile any of it. He should just leave but that would solve nothing. The question became, what did he want? Was he too damaged to know? He was leaning towards that. He slid all the way under the water. It would be so easy to just take a deep breath now. Drowning might not hurt all that much. Heroin would be better of course, intense pleasure then nothing. 

Connor sat up, letting the hot water sluice down his wasted body. Maybe Lorelei could help him find the missing parts of himself. Maybe he’d never get along with Angel or forgive him even though he knew he should. He didn’t doubt that Angel had tried to protect him but it had gone horribly wrong. That wasn’t Angel’s fault but Connor couldn’t help feeling like Angel had simply let him go again, like always. Whenever he didn’t fit the mold his fathers had for him, they let him go, each and every one of them. What was so wrong with him that no one could bother to hold on tight?

Disgusted with himself, Connor scrubbed down hard a second time, and then followed the instructions on the medicinal shampoo Willow had given him to kill the lice. After draining the tub, he showered a third time, used the shampoo again and didn’t feel any cleaner. Four times with the toothbrush didn’t leave his mouth feeling fresh either in spite of the fact that the residues left from last night were long gone and the smell of spearmint was threatening to overwhelm him. Connor stared at his reflection. He didn’t even look human, or maybe he did but not a very nice looking one. More like a skinny Rasputin with the wild hair and beard.

He had snared few disposable razors off the nursing cart while Willow and Angel had tried to convince him to stay and had tucked them into the waistband of the sweats. He fished them out of his clothing and flicked the plastic guard off one and had to settle for regular shampoo to try and lather his face. It took all the razors, a good bit of persistence and several nicks to get all the hair off. He wiped the pink, abused skin down with another handful of anti-lice shampoo, and then stared at his reflection again

Other than the millennia reflected in his eyes, there were no signs of age on him. What was he? Demon, how could he have forgotten that? He might never admit it to anyone, not even to himself. He didn’t want to be a demon. It was too terrible to think about. Maybe that would be one detail the others wouldn’t remember, how the Sanctuary spell had slapped him over the railing. What might his life had been like if he had just told someone Cordy had gotten around that spell?

There wasn’t an adult looking back at him, just a worn out man-child who had seen far too much. If one didn’t look at his eyes, this was a face of innocence. A dark streak of red, full, perfectly bowed lips, a nose that was slightly off-kilter, a small, pale mole just south of the left corner of his mouth and cheeks a bit too sunken, he didn’t look demonic nor even his age. He looked feminine. This was the face that had brought him a lot of trade early on, before he became such a slave to the heroin.

His face could almost flirt with expressing happiness. It was the eyes that gave him away, the color of mourning, seas of despondence, the pure blue of melancholy. Light almond-shaped pools reflecting his pain to the world. He wanted to carve them out.

Those eyes darkened as something filtered into his addled brain. For a second his mind flicked to the scene in Star Wars where Obi-Wan and Luke were talking and Luke realized the Jawas had led the troopers back home. Oh, how sick was this? He couldn’t keep himself separated out. That thought was the mind-altered Hennessy part of him, the Star Wars geek or maybe it was the real him who had learned to be a geek over the years. 

He wanted to run. He even tried and got as far as the bathroom door before nearly fainting. Sagging on the door frame, he gathered himself and went more sedately. Getting downstairs in a hurry now, so late after the fact, didn’t matter. If he had led the demoness to Goode then he could have led it to Honey, to Anne and the kids. He had to make sure he hadn’t led it home.

The conversation in the library died as he walked in. All eyes went to him. Just fucking grand, everyone was home working the books. He tried not to stagger or look weak as he came into the room. Angel would have kittens and want to rescue him or something. Buffy and Angel shared a table with Willow, Giles and Lorelei. Xander, Cordy, Spike, and Faith were on the floor by a stack of books that was truly frightening in size, while Wes, Kate and Dawn were lounging with scrolls on the couches.

“Wow,” Buffy whispered.

He rubbed his burning cheeks. “Wow what?”

She gestured to his clean-shaven face. “You look so young now so...”

“Androgynous,” Willow supplied.

“You’ve called me that before.” He wagged a finger at her. “This time I know what it means.”

She smiled unrepentantly. “How are you feeling now?”

“Weak but I have something I gotta do. I couldn’t...I wasn’t thinking. I need to use the phone. I need to call some people,” Connor said. “I have to be sure that thing didn’t follow me to the few friends she hasn’t already slaughtered.”

“We called Anne,” Dawn said. “Kate suggested it.”

“I was fairly sure you didn’t go there yesterday,” Kate broke in. “I had a bolo out on you, and no one reported seeing you there, including Anne who would have told me.”

“And she’s okay?” Connor had to sit down, scrunching in next to Dawn on the love seat. 

“She’s fine and so are your kids but the girl doesn’t want to stay,” Dawn replied.

“No surprises. Darts will probably run off. I don’t know that any of us can help her. Tin Man...he can be helped I think,” Connor replied. “Kate, were there other murders last night?”

“None that I’m aware of.”

“I need to call Honey. She drove me from Dorion’s to the Passage,” Connor said. “The demon obviously tracked me from the brothel to the bar so Honey could have been targeted.”

Dawn pulled out her tiny cell phone and put it in his hand. “You can take it in the other room if you want it to.”

He shook his head. “Not necessary. I don’t know what I’m going to say to her if she isn’t dead already. This thing doesn’t necessarily kill immediately. I hadn’t been to the magic shop in a while unless she followed you guys there. Just because she didn’t kill Honey last night doesn’t mean she won’t go back now that the trail is cold. How do I protect Honey?”

“Good point,” Angel said. “Anne’s place has a sanctuary spell like here. She can’t get in but your friend...well, would she be willing to leave town for a little while, do you think?”

Connor looked at him curiously. “Why? I mean she’s Dorion’s receptionist but it’s not like she can’t take a vacation I guess. Hell, it’ll probably take Dorion a while to get out of the legal troubles now that the cops know about the brothel so Honey’s probably out of work for a week or so. But she doesn’t have the money to go anywhere. I know because she’s been crying about not getting to go to her tenth high school reunion back in Savannah.”

“If we arranged it, think she’d go?” Angel started moving toward the love seat and a glare from Connor stopped him. “We could probably finagle something along the lines of protective custody, and the firm can pay for it. If we’re right about the demoness tracking us and killing those along the path, then you’re right to be worried about your friend. We have the means of helping her.”

“So what do I tell her about sudden plane tickets to Savannah not to mention hotel for...however long it’ll be?” Connor asked.

“Tell her you won the tickets or something,” Gunn said. “I’ll talk to the department that arranges these things.”

“I’ll have to come up with a reason I can’t go. Honey likes to take care of me.” Connor smiled thinly. “I almost let her take me home last night. She wanted me to. Who knew my plans for the night would have at least one benefit...provided that thing didn’t go for Honey before finding my trail at the Passage.”

“Go ahead and call her, make sure she’s okay. Have her pack her bags, and I can send a car for her,” Angel said.

Connor nodded and placed the call. He decided on privacy after all, wandering out into the lobby. He was never so happy to hear Honey’s voice. It took a good twenty minutes to convince her that he wasn’t pulling her leg and that he had tickets for her to go. All she needed was some clothes and herself. He went back into the library. “She’s okay. She insists on coming here to see me first. Do we think that’s safe? She’s pretty insistent on it but I don’t want to buy trouble.”

“She should be safe enough,” Kate said, “so long as the driver goes from here to the airport direct. Our drivers are used to working around...troubles. In fact, I’ll go with the driver. I didn’t know about Honey. Dorion wasn’t forthcoming about her employees’ names. I’ll need to interview Honey.”

“She’ll be thrilled. Honey’s a badge bunny. She watches every forensic program she can find.” Connor went up to Angel. “Thank you for helping her.”

Angel smiled gently. “If we can save a life, that’s what we’re here for.”

Connor felt a sudden rush of emotion that he barely trampled back into place. He went and sat by Dawn again. “I don’t have many friends. Most of them died this week so I’m grateful for the help.” Connor took stock of the faces around him. The new-to-him people reacted with pity but his former friends had looks of disbelief in their eyes. “What? You’re staring at me like I’m something that got tracked in on your shoe.”

“We just never heard you tell Angel you were grateful,” Fred said.

Connor’s lip curled. “Never had much reason to.”

Fred’s eyes darkened. “You have no idea what he’s...”

“Fred!” Angel said sharply. “This is not the time for this, and he’s not wrong.” Angel held up a hand when she went to protest.

“But I am grateful for this. I don’t have the means to keep my friends safe, and I don’t want them to die because of me,” Connor said.

“And they won’t if we can help it,” Buffy said, going over to Angel, touching his arm gently.

“I want to make one more call, if Dawn doesn’t mind me using her phone again. I just...I have to know. Do the Hennessys even know who I am now that the spell is broken? I remember them in case anyone’s wondering. It’s like having someone else living in my head.” Connor heard his voice break. He was so close to the edge, and he desperately didn’t want to break down here. 

“Connor, your father relayed your wish to talk to me professionally,” Lorelei said, coming over to the love seat. “I am more than willing to do that. It sounds like we might have to try and work on integrating those false memories with your real ones or else find a way to tease them out if need be. I’m not sure you’re up to starting anything today but if you feel like you’d want to talk we can go somewhere now.”

Connor shook his head. “I’ll be okay. I’m still...tired but I’m not in the frame of mind I was last night. But I still want to talk to you whenever’s convenient for you and thanks.”

“And we already know the answer to your question, son,” Angel said, and Connor looked at him sharply. “I wanted to know that, too. I had Willow call your sister, the one you said was still in contact with you.”

“What did you say to Shyla?” Connor sat up straighter.

“Just that I was your doctor and that you had given her name as a reference. We told her you had been in a minor accident, nothing serious but we needed to know any medical history that she thought might be pertinent,” Willow said.

“And she remembered me?” he asked eagerly.

“As her adopted brother, yes,” Willow said.

Connor flopped back. “Adopted...guess that’s better than them forgetting me altogether...or maybe it’s worse. I wish I knew.” He handed Dawn back her phone.

“You’re not going to call?”

He shook his head. “No. I can’t face talking to Shyla. I just needed to know where I was in the universe, now I know.” He scrubbed a hand over his raw face. “Did the drawing help?”

“Not as of yet but it is a good place to start,” Giles said. “We’ve made copies, scanned it in and posted it so hopefully if we can’t find it someone else might be able to.”

“Sorry I couldn’t help more,” Connor said, hunching up.

“Nonsense. This is far more than we had this morning,” Giles said. “Research just takes time.”

“I guess. I was never asked to do this stuff. I was generally just pointed at things to destroy,” Connor replied sardonically.

“And you were good at it?” Cordelia eyed him dubiously.

“Sure. Don’t you remember me helping you trying to get your memory back? We did pretty good, even if you didn’t like some of the living arrangements at my place, like the shower or lack thereof.” Connor smiled at the memory of her horror over having no shower.

Cordy’s eyebrows lifted to the moon. “You and I were living together? Oh, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you, let alone in a place without a shower.”

“Cordelia,” Angel said sternly but not ungently. She rolled her eyes at him. Connor just looked at his father, puzzled. “Connor, I need to talk to you.”

“Why don’t we go in the kitchen?” Willow got up. “You two can talk, and I can show Connor all the neat stuff I had sent over from the hospital for him to eat, which he needs to do now. Every two hours, I want you to have a cookie or a bar or a protein drink. Dinner’s four hours from now so just something small will do.” She didn’t wait for them, heading for the kitchen.

Connor followed her, ugly realizations settling into his brain. Guilt, like a typhoon, lashed him. He signaled at Lorelei hoping she’d understand he wanted her to come, too. He wasn’t surprised when Buffy moved along in Angel’s wake. Connor turned to the psychiatrist once they were in the stainless steel haven of the vast, chef’s dream of a kitchen. “She doesn’t remember me at all, not even with the spell undone. The coma, it brain damaged her, didn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Lorelei said.

“My fault,” he muttered, sagging against the tall walk-in freezer doors. He slipped down them and puddled on the floor.

“It’s not your fault, Connor,” Angel said, crouching down.

Connor scrunched up tighter against any physical contact. Tears trickled down his cheeks. 

“Sorry...I...it’s just that I suddenly remember being in love with her, and I know it was a long time ago but it feels like I lost her today.”

“I’m so....” Angel swallowed the word ‘sorry,’ and Connor knew it was because he was expecting to get staked if he said it. “I wish I could make things better, and I know I can’t.”

Connor let his head fall back, hitting the freezer with an echoing thump. “I’ll be okay. It’s just so sudden, you know? I mean, she’s not the only woman I’ve lost. But at least she’s real. I remember losing girls in high school that I know never happened. I lost Haven and that hurts just as much. I might have been in an altered state of mind but I did fall in love with Haven in New York, and I’m the one that screwed that up. But at least it was real...and I guess I’m glad I didn’t get her to come out here with me. I don’t think anyone could have stopped me from cracking up and I wouldn’t...it’s bad enough that my sister thinks there’s more she could have done to stop me from ending up like this. I don’t want anyone else thinking that.”

“I’m sorry that all the implanted memories didn’t just disappear but that might have been worse. You’d probably have ended up with a decade long hole in your memory,” Angel said.

“And I’d have lost all my learning which would have sucked.” Connor wiped his face. “I’ll get my brain sorted out. It’ll just take time, I hope.”

“I’m hopeful that it can be done,” Lorelei said, leaning against the counter.

“Is there anything we can get you, Connor?” Buffy asked. “Maybe help you...I don’t know relax or feel better or something?”

“I wouldn’t mind something to drink. I’m thirsty...coffee. I haven’t had coffee in a long time. I used to like it.” He smiled faintly, his tears slowing.

“I have just the thing,” Willow said, going to the cupboards. “I’ll brew you up a cup.”

“Does anyone mind if I just sit here for a little while? My head swims less if I’m sitting.”

“Sit,” Willow said. “If you’re feeling that badly Connor, we should get you back to the hospital and maybe rethink giving you a transfusion.”

“I’ll be fine, Willow, seriously. You can check me out again if you want. Most of the welts and everything are healed.” Connor leaned over his knees and hiked his shirt up as if to prove it. 

“You’re shaking,” Buffy said, reaching out to him but he winced away, in no mood to be touched.

“I’m cold...and I know that’s because I’m a little low on blood.” He shot Willow a meaningful look.

“We’ll get you another shirt,” Angel said. “Once you’re a little stronger we can take you shopping for some clothes.” 

Connor’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t help it. He was already taking more from Angel than he wanted to, and his father knew it. Connor could see it on Angel’s broad face.

“Use your own money, if it makes you feel better,” Angel said. “We forgot it at the hospital in the safe, in case you were wondering.”

“I did hate to think my doctor robbed me.” Connor smirked. “But I guess most of that money is Willow’s for services rendered, and I have no idea how I’ll pay for therapy, Lorelei. I get a disability check but I like to give that to my kids.”

“Don’t worry about it, Connor. We’ll do it pro bono for now,” Lorelei said.

“Should I worry that a psychiatrist is this eager to work with me?” He smiled faintly, and she laughed.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that you are...well, unique. It’s hard to resist,” she admitted.

Connor snorted, and then took a deep breath in. “That smells so good.”

“High protein coffee, just for you,” Willow said, getting down a mug.

Connor made a face. “Is it going to suck as much as that cookie?”

“Hopefully not. Speaking of that,” Willow swept open a cupboard revealing boxes. “Cookies and bars.” She picked up a cookie and tossed it to him. “In the fridge, protein drinks.”

“And someone on my back all day long making sure I eat them,” he moaned.

“Not if you’re compliant and do it on your own.” Willow smiled sweetly but the sternness wasn’t abated.

“I’ll eat them,” Connor lied, and he could see no one believed him. He looked back over at Angel. “What does Cordy remember? I don’t want to make another mistake.”

“Not much. Nothing at all about Jasmine,” Angel said.

“Good, there’s so much that went wrong...more than you know and no, I do not want to talk about that or Lorelei might just be committing me yet today,” Connor said, feeling fresh tears forming. “I’m glad Cordy doesn’t remember that even if it means not remembering me.”

“She didn’t even really remember Lorne, Gunn, or Fred either,” Angel said.

“Mostly she remembers Sunnydale and being in high school with me, Willow, and Xander. She acts like she’s still there...and she was the queen of the school if you know what I mean,” Buffy said, trying to play it off but the bitterness was there.

“Bitch,” Connor translated.

“Sadly so. She’s lost a lot of the growth she made as young woman,” Angel said. “She doesn’t remember ever loving me or you or her time with Groo in Pylea. There’s a lot we tried to reeducate her about but it just frustrated her so much that we gave up.”

“That brain damage we mentioned has effected more than Cordelia’s memories,” Willow said. “Cordy can be a little child-like from time to time. She doesn’t really understand she’s being rude so try not take it too personally.”

Connor nodded. “Got it. I’ll do my best to just stay out of her way until she gets used to me being here.”

“That might not help...she can still be rude to us,” Buffy said wryly, folding her arms. “We’ve learned to live with it.”

“But avoiding her might be good,” Willow said. “Xander tends to get overprotective of her, too, just F.Y.I.”

“Good to know. He doesn’t seem to like me much or am I being hasty?” Connor directed that to the ladies.

“He doesn’t like me either. You could be catching backlash,” Angel said.

“The benefits of being your son keep coming,” Connor said, and Angel eyed him sourly. Connor canted his gaze up to Angel, a humiliated look in his eyes. “As much as I hate doing asking but could you help me up?”

Angel helped him stand. Connor nearly pitched over, thinking he might just vomit.

“Connor, I can’t help but notice you still have that cookie in the wrapper,” Willow said, pouring his coffee.

“Fine.” He opened it and crammed the cookie in his mouth, whole. He chewed with the expression of being forced to eat mud. He coughed, choking on the cookie. “Sorry...can you bring the coffee? My hands are shaking too bad. I don’t want to spill it.”

“Go sit, son. I’ll get you a shirt, and Willow can bring the coffee,” Angel said. “Or better yet, why don’t you go upstairs and get some more sleep.”

“I don’t....” He looked away. “I’m not used to being so alone anymore. I don’t want to be up there by myself. Can’t I just crash on the floor for a while, out of the way? I won’t even hear you guys as dead as I feel. I’ll be lucky to get the coffee down.”

Angel looked at Willow and Lorelei who nodded. “Okay. I’ll bring down your pillow and the blanket.”

“Thanks.” The word was so soft Angel had to strain to hear it. Connor made it to the library on his own power and crashed out by the bookshelves on the rug. Willow handed him his coffee. He sipped it suspiciously. “This ain’t bad.”

“Drink as much as you can.”

“I’ll go get that shirt...Spike, do you have a sweat shirt you could part with?” Angel asked.

“Do I look like I wear sweat shirts?” Spike looked at him almost as suspiciously as Connor. “Why?”

“Because Connor’s cold and that thin t-shirt is all he has at the moment. You’re small and probably the best fit,” Angel replied, and Spike puffed up indignantly.

“I’m not small.” He stabbed a finger at Angel.

“You’re not exactly big either,” Angel retorted, and Spike looked angrier. In his current mind set, Angel found it amusing.

“I have something,” Giles said, getting up. “It’s a sweater, a gift from a friend with no taste and no idea I’m not two sizes smaller than I am. I’ve been meaning to give it away and you know how that goes.”

“Thank you,” Connor said, cupping his hands around the steaming mug of coffee.

Angel and Giles went upstairs. Angel came back faster with a fresh pillow and blanket. Giles returned with a cable sweater in gold, orange, and green. Connor made a face.

“I did say he had no taste.” Giles smiled. “Or perhaps just color-blind but I imagine it’s quite warm.”

Connor pulled it on. “Feels nice.” He drank more coffee, and then cuddled up in his blanket on the floor. The voices of the others kept him awake for almost five minutes. He filtered back to consciousness hearing Honey’s voice.

“Where is my Angelboy? I cannot believe he did this for me!”

Connor sat up, rubbing his eyes. He barely got to his feet before Honey swept in on her sparkly pumps. She swept him up, crushing him to her chest. “Oh, Angelboy I’m so glad you’re all right. Isn’t it just awful? Dorion is happy I’m taking this vacation, gives her less to worry about what with having to let those lawyers of her dig her out of the trouble she’s in. I don’t know what anyone thinks prosecuting her will do. It’s not the oldest profession for nothing.” Honey paused for a moment, and then nodded at Angel’s crew. “Are they okay?”

“I wouldn’t call any of them okay but you can talk in front of them. They won’t turn us in,” he mumbled against her dark skin, much of it showing through the scoop of her neckline. His eyes canted to the side to see if Angel was watching. What would his father think about him and Honey? Given the time period he had grown up in, Angel would probably hate it and that made Connor happy.

“Well, Dorion wants you to call her, baby boy. She got all your stuff out of the room before the detectives got there, and she wants to give it to you. And she wants to make some business arrangements with you and her other places, if you know what I mean.” Honey left him go, fussing with his sweater.

“I get it.”

“Now, sweetie-baby, tell me, how did you get these tickets?”

“Um, won them off the radio. I can’t go but I thought I know who’d just love to go to Savannah,”

She kissed his forehead, leaving a crimson splotch. She caught his cheeks, her dagger-like nails dangerously close to his eyes. “Ooo, look at you. You are so cute without all that horrible fuzz all over your face. I have no idea why you don’t shave more often.” She stroked his cheek.

He didn’t mention the fact his squat had no running water, let alone a place to shave. “Thanks, Honey.”

“But this sweater, oh my. That is just the most awful thing I’ve ever seen. You need a makeover worse than anyone I know. One of these days, you’re just going to take that little back bedroom of mine and live with me, and let me give you a makeover. And feed you.” She patted his ribs. “You’re like hugging a baby bird.”

Connor squirmed under her hands. “I am not. Now you have a good time in Savannah.”

Honey pouted. “I wish you’d change your mind and come with me.”

“I can’t.” He took her hand. “The last thing you want at your high school reunion is a horse head.”

Honey scowled at him. “You’re more than just that.”

Connor looked away. “I can’t go.”

Honey glanced around as if noticing for the first time she wasn’t alone. Her eyes settled on Angel and she grinned broadly. “Who’s that?” she whispered, a loud flirty whisper, Connor noticed.

“Angel. He runs the company giving away the tickets.” The corners of Connor’s lips quirked up. “I’m sort of related to him.”

“Ooo, all the men in your family must be sweet.” Honey pursed her lips at Angel.

“Not really,” Connor said, jerking a thumb at Buffy. “And see that little blonde over there. She might not like you eyeing her husband.”

“Gotcha. No harm meant, hon.” Honey sauntered up to Angel and stuck out her hand with her inch-long, sculpted nails. “Thank you for making this possible.”

Angel shook hands with her. “I hope you enjoy yourself. And thanks for looking out for Angelboy.”

“Not an easy task, let me tell you.” She rolled her eyes, smoothing out her long hair. “And Angelboy, you call Reverend Washington for me and tell him where I am. Tell him I’m sorry I didn’t have time to tell him myself, and that I’m sorry I’ll miss the choir for the next few weekends.”

“Okay.”

“And the police came to talk to me. Can you believe it? It was so exciting.” Honey sighed. “It would have been more exciting if they had sent a hunky young detective instead of that lady detective but still. I just wish I knew something that would have helped.” She handed him a key. “And make sure my plants don’t die.”

“Honey...” he said warning she was pushing too hard.

“And if you get tired of living in a big old hotel, you can stay at my place if you’d like. I have to go. My ride says we need to get to the airport. It was nice meeting you all. Sorry I didn’t have time to stay and make friends.” Honey waved at them before capturing Connor again. “I’ll send postcards.” She gave him a big kiss, and then bustled off to where the Wolfram and Hart driver was still waiting silently in the doorway.

“Well, she’s something else,” Buffy said wryly.

“She seems to be very fond of you, kid,” Faith said. “You and her... you know?”

“She’d like that but no,” Connor said, flopping back on his spot on the rug.

“You didn’t mention Honey was born a man,” Angel said, taking a chair near Connor’s resting spot.

Xander glanced up at that. “What?”

Connor nodded. “Honey’s a woman. She might be trans but she’s all woman.” He waved his hands, and then his eyes cut up to Angel. “Problems with her?”

“No, she seems nice.” Angel smiled faintly. “She’s genuinely concerned for you. It’s good to know you have a friend like that.”

Connor’s eyes widened a bit, surprised at his father’s acceptance of Honey. “She’s a good person. That’s why I wanted to be sure she’s safe.” He wrapped up in the blanket again. “How long was I out?”

“A couple hours, Lorne should be here with dinner any minute,” Dawn said. “We’re doing pizza.”

“Pizza sounds good. Thought Honey was going to try and take you with her to Savannah next, Angel,” Connor said, stretching out.

“So did I.” Buffy hip bumped her lover. “And Angel and I aren’t married, Connor.”

“You’ve been together how long?” Connor asked.

“Ten years give or take,” Angel said oblivious to Buffy’s hot glance at him not knowing down to the second.

“You’re legally married.” Connor nodded at Buffy. “If you come to your senses and decide to dump him, half of all his stuff is yours.” He grinned wickedly. Buffy and Angel gave him his and hers sour looks.

“There’s an image, Buffy and Angel married,” Xander snorted.

“I think it’s cute,” Dawn said. Xander, Spike and Cordy rolled their eyes in concert.

“Of course, that legally makes Buffy my step mother.” Connor smirked.

She pointed at him. “This day has been disturbing enough without that.”

“Yeah didn’t think you’d rush to claim me,” he said as Lorne came in carrying five boxes of pizza. Xander and Gunn went to help him.

“Think you can manage two slices?” Willow asked Connor.

“I can try.” He smiled broadly. “It’s my favorite food.”

“Good, get one of the loaded pieces. You need all the protein you can get,” she said. “In fact you sit, I’ll get you a good piece.”

Willow delivered him a huge slice covered with meat and vegetables. Connor knew a second slice was out of the question.

“Did you turn up anything, Lorne?” Buffy asked as they all settled with their dinners.

“‘Fraid not, Sunshine. No one’s owning up to knowing this creature. I was thinking that maybe tomorrow, Connor could sing a little for me. Maybe I can pick up something he’s forgotten or get a line on her somehow,” Lorne said, looking unhappy about it.

“You caught me singing a few lines a couple days ago and passed out,” Connor reminded him.

“Trust me, I’m in no hurry to do this but if it helps...” Lorne shrugged.

“I’m fine with that. She’s out to get me so anything I can do, I will.” Connor took a bite of pizza, savoring it.

Most of the business talk died off as they ate. The phone interrupted dinner. Buffy’s face darkened the longer she listened. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“What?” Angel asked.

“Tricia and Leda tried to sneak out of the dorms.”

“The girls who want to kill me?” Connor left off making an honest attempt at his second slice. Those girls made him more nervous than he cared to admit. “That’s just great.”

“They got caught. And I’m going to go deal with this now,” Buffy said, the growl in her voice catching Connor’s attention.

“You’ll be safe here, son,” Angel said, getting up to go with her.

“Uh-huh, my bedroom door doesn’t lock or did you think I wouldn’t notice?” A harsh look flashed across Connor’s face. 

“The hotel’s old. We’ll get that fixed but trust me, you’re safe,” Angel said.

“I’ll sleep down here, thank you, until everyone else turns in,” Connor said.

Angel didn’t argue further. Willow let Connor slide with just eating half the second slice and he did sleep on the floor until Faith shook him awake near midnight. She helped him to his room without a word, embarrassed looking as if she didn’t know what to say. Connor felt the same. He barricaded his door and shoved the dresser in front of the window and wished he had thought to filch a knife from the weapons array downstairs. He changed out the bedding in case it was infested with fleas and lice at this point. His body was too weak to allow him to worry for long before sleep came for him once more.


	16. Rogue Slayers

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

_Nothing’s gonna change my love for you_  
I love my child   
He’s got his mother’s smile   
I’m so fortunate   
So fortunate   
Life can get tight   
But I will make it right   
**So Fortunate - Adema**

Angel didn’t even try to fight his foul mood. He sat in Giles’ office at the school to scare Leda and Tricia into a confession so he might as well nurse his anger. The morning wasn’t off to a good start. Buffy was cranky for reasons he hoped could be attributed to having to deal with the girls. Cordy, Gunn, and Fred were still giving him the cold treatment as they headed off for Wolfram and Hart. 

After having time to truly understand what Angel had done to her, Faith wasn’t much better, taking the violation of her mind very seriously, with all the signs of being a rape victim; he hoped he hadn’t tore off the scabs off her past. Wesley was more forgiving and Spike was full of questions. Angel did all he could to avoid Spike because he wasn’t in the mood to answer his inquiries.

Angel had peeked in on Connor and managed to wake him up because of the barricaded door. Connor had flipped him off and rolled back over, obviously still in the mood to be as ugly as he could. Angel refrained from telling Connor it didn’t matter. He loved him in spite of it all but suspected that would result in Connor spontaneously self-combusting or finding the strength to kill him, whichever came first. At least Giles and Lorelei were in good spirits as they all sat in Giles’ office while Buffy and Robin rounded up the girls.

“Want to talk about it, Angel?” Lorelei set her oft-present electronic notepad down.

“Not really,” he said. “I expected everyone to still be mad at me and want me to feel guilty over the spell, and I’m not going to do that. I don’t feel guilty. I tried to help my son, and I’d do it again.”

“I don’t know that you should feel guilty,” Lorelei said, surprising him. “I don’t know the whole story Angel, just what I heard from Willow and the others but that didn’t convince me that you could have reached your son. He sounded like he was in a very dark place.”

“What do you know, Lorelei?” Angel held up a hand, realizing how crass that sounded. “I don’t mean that facetiously. How much did they tell you?”

Lorelei’s pretty eyes met his levelly. “About Connor being raised in hell. He told me about being with Cordelia, and I can see Connor’s pain clearly.”

“They told us about Cordelia and Connor producing a hell goddess,” Giles added with just a little too much awe for Angel’s peace of mind. “But no one could tell us about what happened to her and what happened to Connor afterwards. I’m assuming that’s when the spell was cast.”

Angel nodded, hating this topic. There was too much pain associated with it. “They knew what happened to Jasmine but not Connor. Still, Jasmine had all of us enthralled. When that spell broke...even I have trouble holding on to all the details surrounding Jasmine.” Angel rubbed his forehead. “And I didn’t get to say so, Lorelei, but thank you for talking with Connor. I’m going to ask you for a favor though.”

“I’m not sure I can grant it, Angel, not if it concerns therapy,” Lorelei said uneasily.

Angel waved her off. “I don’t want to know what he tells you. I wouldn’t think about asking you to breach patient confidentiality. I was going to ask you to use your office at the hotel and try to schedule the sessions when Faith, Buffy or I am around.”

“You’re afraid he’ll freak out and hurt me.” Lorelei made a notation in the book.

“I know that patients can do that but if Connor does it, he could kill you easily.” Angel hated saying it. He didn’t want to think about how dangerous his son could be. “Just have a walkie talkie or something as a panic button...if you don’t think it’ll interfere with the session.”

Lorelei wrote something else in her book, and then looked up. “I’ll talk to Connor, assure him that it won’t be used to broadcast anything, that it’s only for my protection.”

“Good. I don’t want you at risk trying to help him.” Angel paused, drumming his fingers on the desk. “Lorelei, I have some DVDs of Connor. Some I know the contents of, some I’ve yet to watch. One is of when he first arrives. The other is when he had his melt down at the mall. I don’t know if they’ll help you or not but you’re welcome to watch them.”

She curled a lock of her red hair around her finger. Her face held a great deal of curiosity as did Giles’. “That might help but I’ll hold off until after the first session. I’d like to try to get as unspoiled an impression of him as I can. That will be hard enough at this point.”

“Okay.” The phone rang and Angel answered it, his face growing dark and ugly. “What do you mean he’s gone? No, that’s okay, Faith. You guys aren’t his keepers. Thanks for telling me.”

“Connor’s gone?” Giles questioned.

“Disappeared without telling anyone,” Angel grumbled, wishing just for once his son would do what was expected of him and be good.

“Angel, your son did tell us he doesn’t keep more than daily use of heroin around. Unless I miss my guess, he was mollified with methadone yesterday. Connor will have to go score,” Giles said, taking his glasses off for a polish.

Angel slumped in his chair. “I know. I’m sure that’s where he is. It’s just that this demoness isn’t confined to the night, and he’s at great risk.”

“He knows that Angel. He also knows what happened to him if he goes into withdrawal. Trust me, that’ll get him out there,” Lorelei said, unapologetically.

Angel skinned his lips back, his eyes flicking up to the books that lined Giles’s exceeding English-looking office, all books, dark leather and wood so polished it looked like silk under glass. Most days, Angel was very comfortable in this room but not today. “His money is still at the hospital. Oh damn. I’d better beat Buffy home. He’ll have taken my money unless he planned on trolling the streets for tricks and she was furious the last time he robbed me.”

“Easy money would probably have more allure,” Giles said. “It would save him the hours needed to earn on his own.”

Angel nodded, not minding as much as he thought he might losing out on his money. He’d rather not have Connor out there whoring. He just had to be sure he got the money replaced before Buffy found out. He knew Buffy might understand and forgive Connor, for Angel’s sake if for no other reason, but she was already angry at Connor for his previous theft. She hadn’t taken it out on Connor, feeling sorry for him at the time, but let Angel have it with both barrels. Angel looked at the door willing Buffy to come through it but there was no sign of her. “Where are they?”

“Robin and Buffy are taking the girls to see Willow first in the infirmary,” Lorelei replied. “For random drug testing.”

Angel hadn’t been expecting that but he saw the sense in it. “Oh. I suppose if Amaya was beginning to experiment there’s every reason to assume they were as well.”

“We might end up testing all the girls over the course of the next few days,” Giles said, his eyes dim with regret over the necessity. “Just as a precaution. Perhaps we’ve given them too much freedom.”

Angel spread his hands. “Do what you think’s necessary.” He looked to the door, finally hearing a group approaching. He was taken aback at the totally haughty expressions on Leda and Tricia’s faces. He was reminded of Cordelia the first time he had met her back in Sunnydale. Leda even looked like Cordy a bit, dark hair, tanned skin, beautiful. And Tricia was her Harmony, only brighter, but still the pretty blonde, obsessed with fashion judging from the clothing. He knew he had his work cut out for him if the drug testing hadn’t shaken them up.

Angel watched them sit down, one on either side of the table, closest to him. Buffy sat between Leda and Giles while Robin took up residence between Tricia and Lorelei. Angel felt his body tensing as he took quick stock of the dynamics in the room. Would they let him do what he needed to do? He still didn’t know what he was going to do yet. He couldn’t actually hurt these girls as much as he might want to. Then again the girls didn’t know that.

“You know why you’re here,” Angel said.

“I know that you all think Trish and I were planning to hurt some junkie,” Leda said, no hint of emotion in her voice beyond how this inconvenienced her. Leda seemed utterly bored with being called into the office again.

Tricia’s eyes cut to Leda and Angel caught it. She was the weaker of the two, looking to the other girl for support. It was one of the reasons Lorelei had suggested the physical barrier the table represented as it sat between them. “We didn’t do anything. We keep telling Mr. Giles and Mr. Wood that but they don’t believe us. Neither does Buffy.”

“So, what would Amaya have to gain by putting in her journal that you wanted to help her kill someone just for the thrill of it?” Angel kept his face soft, his voice gentle. If he went violent too fast, he’d be driven into a corner too quickly. All they would have to do was call his bluff and it would end the secession then and there. It was better to try and finesse them. 

“We keep telling everyone we don’t know. We didn’t control Amaya,” Leda sniffed, examining her nails. “She was crazy.”

“So she made it all up in a document no one else was meant to see?” Angel tried to get Leda’s attention but she was too busy putting on her ‘I’m so tired of this’ show. “Why would Amaya do that?”

Tricia shrugged, her eyes flicking over to Leda again. “I don’t know.”

“Blackmail maybe,” Leda said, looking up from her painted nails. “You know, if we didn’t do something she wanted, she’d show it to Buffy or Mr. Wood.”

Angel’s eyebrows lifted. “Really? Wouldn’t that get her in trouble, too?”

Leda looked at him like he was the stupid one. “I told you she was crazy.”

“I don’t understand why no one believes us,” Tricia whined, her hands twisting over themselves. “We didn’t do anything so why are we being punished?”

“Maybe because you’re in a position of power being Slayers, and we can’t risk what happens if you think you can do anything you want,” Robin put in, his face pinched and hard.

“We’ve already heard the Faith story a dozen times.” Leda blew at her bangs, leaning back in her chair.

Angel got up and went behind her, running a hand over her shoulders, and she shuddered under his touch. “So you think you know it all, do you? Maybe we should bring Faith here and let her tell you what it’s like to have walked in her shoes. She didn’t plan to go down that dark road but she did. But what you two are planning is even worse.” Angel circled around behind Tricia, and she flinched away from his big hand. “Faith spun out of control when she accidentally killed someone. You two were planning to murder a man. That’s infinitely worse.” He caught one of Tricia’s blond curls between his fingers. “Maybe you should ask Faith what prison’s like. Do you know how long you could go to jail for attempted murder? Maybe you don’t care. You’ll only be thirty something when you get out. You might even still be pretty.” He ran a hand over Tricia’s cheek, and she twitched.

“We didn’t try to kill anyone,” Leda said, a little nervously. 

Angel wondered if she was afraid Tricia might break because Leda hadn’t looked this afraid when he directly addressed her. He went back over to her. “Planning a killing is still a criminal offense. Talk to Faith about what it’s like to be in a cell, about what it’s like on visiting day and you have to face your family with that pane of glass between you. She’s in town right now. Ask her about the women weeping when their families refuse to come on visiting day, taking away that last little bit of hope. Do you want to experience that for yourself?”

“Well, I don’t see how that’ll happen when you have no proof we did anything, just some scribblings in Amaya’s diary.” Leda smirked up at him.

“Amaya did drugs, too,” Tricia offered. “Who knows what that made her do and say. We didn’t tell anyone because...well, we were afraid. She’s older and all.”

“And what if we go ask the person Amaya spoke of in her diary,” Angel said, grateful that his companions were sitting mutely watching his play. “Would he tell us that you two didn’t ask him to let you tie him up for sex at a price?”

Tricia made a face, squinching up her blue eyes. “Like we’d touch some junkie? Eww, could you imagine what diseases he might have?”

“Maybe it was just tying up then, no sex,” Buffy interjected, and the girls barely looked at her.

“It wasn’t anything,” Leda said, shifting closer to Giles to put a bit of distance between her and Buffy. “We’ve been over this. Even if you found the junkie - like is he even named in the diary - what good would it do you? Junkies are messed up. You can’t trust anything they say. They’re useless.” 

The glacial chill off her words froze Angel. There was no emotion in her, except for disdain and even that was flat as if the girl couldn’t fully access it. “So useless they don’t matter?” Angel put his hands on her shoulder. 

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying you can’t trust them,” Leda said trying to squirm out from under his hands.

Angel could see this was getting him no further than it had gotten Giles and the others when they tried talking to the girls. “I’m not like the others, little girl. You lie to me and I get angry,” Angel said, his voice still gentle but lisping around his fangs. 

He heard Tricia jump a bit but his eyes were on Leda who seemed nonplused. “You won’t hurt us. They won’t let you.” She nodded at Buffy.

“Do you think Buffy could move faster than I can snap your neck?” Angel caressed her jugular with a finger. Buffy pushed her chair away from Leda’s giving him better access.

“But we didn’t do anything. You can’t just kill us,” Tricia said, her eyes wide, looking to Lorelei who was beside her.

“He won’t do anything,” Leda snapped at her, making Tricia jump.

“Are you so sure? I know a few things I can do,” Angel prowled back over to Tricia, seeing she was trembling. “I can send Robin to go get Willow, bring her down here and try a truth spell.” He wondered if Willow actually knew such a spell.

The girls exchanged worried looks. 

“That’s a very good idea,” Robin said, getting up. “Maybe I should do that right now.”

“Please do,” Giles said and Robin left. Angel saw Tricia tracking the principal’s departure nervously. Leda still seemed unconcerned.

“And you know what else we can do, Leda, that won’t even involve Angel hurting you...at first.” Buffy smiled predatorily. “We can make you not Slayers anymore.”

“You can’t,” Tricia whispered.

“That’s not possible,” Leda said. “We’re Chosen.”

“And I’m here to tell you it’s very possible, young lady,” Giles said, rapping his hands on the table with an echoing bang. “It’s called cruciamentum. And it’s been used by Watchers for a dozen centuries maybe more. Trust me, if I chose to I could leave you both helpless.”

“But we didn’t do anything to deserve this,” Tricia argued again.

“And maybe you should tell them about the special jail the Watchers have, Giles.” Buffy’s agate eyes hardened. “The one Wesley had Faith sent to. No lawyers, girls, no trials. Your parents’ money can’t help you. The Special Ops Watchers come for you, and you just disappear until the Watchers think you’re safe to be back in society.”

Angel smiled at Buffy. She had taken a page from Angelus’s book, and it was having an effect on Tricia. He could see cracks around her edges. Leda was a different story.

“You can’t make us say we were going to do something we had no plans on doing,” Leda said, leveling her gaze at Tricia. “Threats don’t change the fact we don’t know this junkie, and we never planned on killing him.”

Angel caught Lorelei’s eye and saw her grim look. He suspected she was thinking the same thing he was; Leda was too cold, too heartless. Tricia might be salvageable if she were separated from Leda but the dark-haired Slayer might be a lost cause, a sociopath who wouldn’t think twice about hurting someone just because she could. “Threats don’t...Tricia, don’t you have a pet rabbit, Zoe? How would you feel if I did to Zoe what you planned on doing to the young man Amaya wrote about?”

Tricia lost all coloring, trembling violently. “You can’t! Zoe never hurt anyone. She’s just a bunny. You can’t hurt her.”

Angel got down to her level, looking her in the eye. She couldn’t meet his golden gaze. His fingers curled over Tricia’s knees. “You’re worried about a damned rabbit but didn’t give a second thought to the life you planned on snuffing out as part of Amaya’s sick little game?”

“I didn’t do anything. Don’t let him hurt Zoe,” Tricia tossed that over to Lorelei.

“Angel has a point, Tricia. We have details of what you three were planning. Maybe you should see what it looks like,” Lorelei said, her face carefully schooled not to show her repulsion at the idea. “It’s just a rabbit after all.”

“But she doesn’t deserve this,” Tricia’s lips quivered, her voice shaking.

“And the man in Amaya’s journal? Did he deserve what you had planned for him?” Angel’s fingers dug into her flesh.

“We don’t know him, never saw him, never tried to pay him for sex and definitely didn’t plan to kill him,” Leda said, drawing the attention back to her.

Before Angel could respond, there was a commotion at the receptionist’s desk outside of Giles’s office. He could hear Ashley yelling at someone that they couldn’t go in there. The door opened and Connor strode into the room, still wearing the hideous sweater Giles had given him. Connor had on the worn coat he owned but it looked like he had shoved it through the wash. It wasn’t reeking like it had been. Angel wasn’t expecting to see his son and wondered what he was doing here. Buffy glanced over at Angel, and then her eyes flicked to the girls. Tricia was breathing harder and even Leda looked nervous. Their scents shifted. They were afraid.

Connor jumped up on the edge of the table, his legs dangling over the edge. He nudged the chair Angel had been sitting in with a booted toe. He looked like a lost little boy to Angel. He wished he could just do something to make his son whole and healthy again but his every attempt just made things worse. Maybe it was better not to try.

“Hello Leda, Tricia.” Connor fixed the girls with a chilling look. Angel remembered that look. It was something that he never wanted to see on his son’s face. It reminded him too much of Angelus and the claims Connor had once made about being the demon’s child, not his. The girls didn’t address Connor nor even look at him. Angel knew they had to realize that the fact Connor recognized them on sight didn’t bode well for their story. Connor twisted on the table, looking up at Angel. “Nice face, but it doesn’t look like it’s working.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Touching his brow ridges, Angel glanced over at Tricia.

“They know you won’t really do anything to them,” Connor said, voicing what Angel already knew. 

“How many times do we have to say we didn’t do anything?” Leda’s dark eyes flared. “Amaya made it all up.”

Connor laughed, a harsh ugly sound. “Really? I know I’m high a lot of the time. Hell, I’m high now but I remember you two coming around with Amaya. I remember what you offered. I can even tell you the price you were willing to pay.” Connor cocked his head at them. “Really, your parents give you way too much money if you had that much to spare.”

Leda glared at him. Tricia’s lips started trembling again, and Angel saw his son go after that weakness like a hawk on a rabbit, the same as he had.

“Why did you want to hurt me?” Connor asked, and they didn’t respond. “Did you really think it would be easy to kill me? Did you think it would be fun?”

“We didn’t think anything because it’s not true,” Leda said, her eyes not leaving him.

“So I’m lying?” Connor shrugged, taking off his coat. “Could be. I’ve been known to do it but why would I?”

“Do we need to remind you about Willow’s truth spell?” Buffy’s face was like stone, her voice cold and hard as marble. It had its effect on Tricia but Leda shrugged it off.

Connor made a face. “Ooo, magic, you just have to hate it don’t you? Especially when it screws you over. Want to give it a go, my story versus yours?” 

The girls didn’t answer him. Angel sat in Robin’s vacated seat. Tricia quailed away from him. He wondered where his son was going with this but was more than willing to let him run.

“I’m pretty sure I know what you were thinking. It’s common enough where I’m from. ‘He’s just a homeless junkie. No one cares about him and no one will miss him.’ That’s why junkies and whores die anonymously in droves every year, victims of someone’s rage, someone who’s forgotten that we’re people too and someone cares for us,” Connor said, and Leda rolled her eyes at him. He swung around on the table, planting a booted foot on either arm of her chair. “No one is disposable, little girl. Not me, not Night Rain and Lian and not even you. Night Rain told me a lot about what goes on here. It’s a school like any other and even though you’re all special girls, there’s still the usual hierarchy, cool kids on the top and you work your way down. That’s human nature and nothing Buffy or Giles or anyone at this school can do to prevent it. I know you two and Night Rain think you’re on the top but that means jack in the real world. I do not rank under the used tissue you toss in the can.”

Leda’s lips curled, as she pushed her chair back quickly trying to spill Connor off the table. He caught himself gracefully, and her face darkened in a rage. “You think you’re so smart, junkie?” 

“Smart enough to know that that man there would miss me terribly if you had managed to tie me up and kill me.” Connor pointed to Angel.

“What would a vampire care about you?” Tricia asked, trying to sound as tough as Leda and failing.

“He’s my father,” Connor replied, and the girls stared at him, confused. “And I know this much, if there is only one person who gives a damn about me, it’s Angel.” Connor looked over at him, and Angel felt his chest tightening. Had he really heard Connor admit to someone that he believed his father’s love was real? “But Angel’s not the only one. I have an adopted sister who writes me all the time. She loves me no matter what I’ve done to myself. Shyla would be devastated if crime scene photos of my torn up body made their way to a forensic’s program while they look for my killers. I’m not insignificant.” Connor slammed a fist against the table. “I count.”

Connor pulled the sweater off over his head and Angel wondered what in the hell his son was up to. A niggling thought about Connor needing to cover up tickled in the back of Angel’s brain. No one should see his son looking like this, all his ribs visible, knobby at the ends where they attached to the breast bone, his stomach caving in. A line of Ogham writing ran from Connor’s belly button to the start of his pubic hair, which showed just a bit because his pants weren’t staying up over the sharp points of his hips. Underpants were nowhere to be seen.

“But if you think it would be an easy thing to kill me, why don’t we put it to the test. The adults can leave, and it’ll be just us three. You want to know what it’s like to kill a person, to know if it’s a thrill, let’s give it a go.” Connor reached into the voluminous pockets of his duster and pulled out a huge knife. “It won’t take long with this, unless of course you really want to make me suffer first. That was the original plan. Sorry, I forgot to bring you something to tie me up with but I promise, I won’t fight you.” 

Connor offered the knife to Tricia who buried her hands under her thighs, tears forming in her eyes. He pivoted and held it out to Leda who just smirked at him. “What? No takers. Oh, come on. This is what you wanted.” He dropped the knife at his side as he laid down on the table. “You can decide who’s first. Don’t worry about Angel or Buffy. They’re leaving.”

Lorelei got up and nodded toward the door. Giles and Buffy followed her. Angel was slower to move. He didn’t trust Connor to handle the young Slayers should one of them take him up on his offer but he headed toward the receptionist’s office. Angel hovered in the doorway, unable to actually leave Connor alone. The two girls didn’t move.

“Okay, making me wait for it is really cruel you know,” Connor said, squirming on the table. “Let’s get started already. If you really want me tied down first I bet Buffy has rope around here somewhere.” He rolled up onto one arm looking at Leda. “What’s the problem?”

“You’re so screwed up, you’re disgusting,” she replied, her eyes boring a hole in him.

“That really hurts coming from you.” Connor took the knife and rolled over to face Tricia. “How about you, Trish? Isn’t it as fun as you thought it would be?”

Tricia turned away. “Leave me alone.”

Spinning her chair back around, Connor put the knife in her hand and leaned against the point. Angel smelled the tang of blood as the tip of the blade pierced just under Connor’s nipple. He headed back towards his son before something bad happened. “Come on, you planned this. Not so easy, is it when you see me as a human being and not a thing. Do it,” Connor ordered, blood running down his chest

Tricia dropped the knife on the floor, sobbing. She buried her face in her arms against the table. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, I already know that,” Connor said, sitting back and Angel paused. Maybe Connor had it handled after all.

“Trish, shut up.” Leda leaped to her feet, heading for her friend. 

Angel chucked her against the wall before she could hurt Tricia or get to the knife but the spell bounced him away from her. Leda stared up at him, shocked that he had touched her. He saw true fear in her eyes for the very first time. He pointed at her. “Stay down.”

Buffy went to get Leda under control. Tricia kept babbling out apologies, nearly incoherent through her weeping. 

Connor caught her chin, tipping her tear-stained face up. “I matter.”

Tricia slipped his grip and puddled up on the floor. Lorelei went over to her.

Angel took hold of Connor, his thumb brushing the wound on his chest. It was already healing but a large pearl of blood decorated his thumb. “You all right?”

“Stings a little but nothing I can’t handle.” Connor wiggled, trying to get free of Angel’s touch.

“Put your shirt on. You’re cold,” Angel said, seeing all the gooseflesh. “We need to get you a belt.”

“Whatever.” Connor pulled on the sweater, seeing Robin and Willow arriving out of the corner of his eye. “If you lick that blood off your fingers, I’ll be really disappointed.”

Angel looked at his rouged digits. “I fed off someone high on heroin once or twice before. Curious sensation, not something I’m eager to revisit.”

Connor snorted. “What happens now?”

Buffy glanced over to Willow, holding a struggling Leda. “Willow has a spell that guarantees they can’t get out of their rooms. We’ll work from there. They’re not going to hurt you. Come on, Willow. Leda needs an attitude adjustment.”

“You stupid cow, Trish. You better hope I don’t get out of the room,” Leda raged as Buffy hauled her out with Willow following her.

“That one scares me,” Connor said, watching Buffy fighting to move Leda along.

“You’re not the only one,” Lorelei said, helping Tricia up. She didn’t offer any protests. “Connor, I’ve work to do here obviously but later this afternoon, I’ll be free.”

“I’ll be at the hotel,” Connor said. He had an eager look on his face that pleased Angel. He wanted Connor to be happy about therapy. That was the first step in making his son well again.

“One of us should ride you back there,” Angel said.

“You have a way of getting there in the daylight?” Connor tossed his long hair back, giving him a cold look.

“No, I’ll be going by the sewers as usual. I was thinking more along the lines of Giles,” Angel said, ignoring the antagonistic tone.

“I should give a hand with the research,” Giles said. “You could help, too, if you’d like Connor. It might have been a while since you put those research talents you needed to get through law school through their paces but we could use all the help we can get.”

Connor nodded. “I can do that.”

Angel caught Connor before he could follow Giles out. He pulled his son to him, feeling him tensing up. He pressed his forehead against the crown of Connor’s head. “You were right about everything, Connor. One of the things that kept me going was the belief that you were having a good life somewhere and even though I know that didn’t happen, I want you to know nothing you do will change my love for you.” He hugged Connor hard. “You do matter.”

Connor squirmed free and went after Giles without saying a word. Angel refused to be discouraged as he headed into the sewers. He started toward the hotel, and then changed his mind. They had plenty of people working the books. There was something that needed doing more. Angel headed for the mall. It was an easy thing to avoid sunlight inside of malls. There were precious little windows because they wanted the shoppers to lose all track of time. It made it convenient for him. And if Buffy found the missing money before he got back, he’d just tell her that he took it with him shopping, and he could get some out of an ATM on his way home.


	17. Revelations

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

_I’m a nightmare, a disaster_  
That’s what they always say  
I’m a lost cause, not a hero  
But I’ll make it on my own  
I’ve gotta prove them wrong  
Me against the world  
It’s me against the world  
**Me Against the World – Simple Plan**

__

__

__Connor wished he hadn’t returned to the hotel with Giles. He wanted to be alone. He knew he could probably go to his room but he wanted to walk the city to clear his head. Connor felt positively anti-social today. He got like this, even before the drugs. Now with his memories restored, Connor knew that this moodiness had been with him since Quor-Toth.

While waiting for Lorelei, Connor threw in with Giles, Wes, Dawn, and Spike doing the research. He might not feel social, but he would feel guiltier if he did nothing to help and at least he was good with research normally. Today wasn’t a normal day. Very bored with it, he was practically asleep in his chair when Dawn touched his shoulder. He glanced up at her, startled.

“Sorry. I should know better than to spook someone when they’re in research mode.” Dawn smiled as she set a protein drink down. “You haven’t eaten in a while.”

Connor sighed sullenly. “Fine, I’ll drink it,” he griped, and then looked at her apologetically. “Thank you. And don’t worry about startling me. I needed waking up. I’m not finding anything.” He tapped the book. “I’m about to fall asleep trying.”

“Tell me about it, mate.” Spike rubbed his eyes. “Too bad Red’s locator spells came up with squat. The damn demon must be shielded.”

“Why would things be easy?” Connor tried to gag down the protein drink for Dawn’s sake.

“Maybe we just needed to clear our heads,” Wes said, rotating his neck side to side to loosen the muscles.

“How about a little music at least?” Connor nodded to the radio. He set the drink aside with no intention of picking it back up again unless Dawn fussed.

“Feel free,” Dawn replied, having settled back down with a huge book.

Connor turned it on and Mozart spilled out.

“Great, Angel’s long hair shit,” Spike rumbled, giving the radio the evil eye as if it were to blame for the musical selection.

“I like it.” It bothered Connor to have something in common with his father. It just went to illustrate something he knew to be true and hated: he and Angel were very much alike. Worse, he might be even more like his father now, thanks to Angel’s interference with his mind with that spell. “Do you mind or should I change it?”

“Spike might grumble but everyone else likes it,” Giles replied, shooting a ‘quit complaining’ look at the other man.

“How exactly is it that you know Angel, Spike? I mean, there’s some obvious history between you,” Connor said, not even pretending to be interested in the book in front of him.

“I’m Angel’s grandson, in the way vampires usually term family,” Spike said simply, his eyes meeting Connor’s.

“But you’re not a vampire,” Connor said, his brow furrowing.

“Not anymore,” Spike said, and then explained how he was killed in Sunnydale and brought back by a spell as a human much like Darla had been. That left Giles to explain to a stunned and somewhat horrified Connor how Angel had killed Darla in Sunnydale, and Wes took up the tale with how Wolfram and Hart had brought her back and why.

Connor had to escape. He couldn’t handle his warped family history. How could Angel have hated Darla enough to kill her yet sleep with her years later and father him? He wanted to just run off, go somewhere he could pretend that none of this was real. If he pretended hard enough, maybe he could make it so. A good hit of heroin would help but if he left now, he’d feel guilty.

“You look upset,” Spike observed. “I know it’s a lot to handle. I can probably tell you anything you want to know about your dad, good, bad or embarrassing.” He smirked, the laugh lines around his mouth wrinkling.

“I know all I need to know about that ma...wait!” Connor’s eyes flitted over to Spike, his anger draining away. “Embarrassing?”

Giles and Wes just wagged their heads, knowing once Spike had an audience he’d play right to it. Before Spike could get started, Faith bopped in and turned the radio station from classical to something loud and driving. 

“How’s the research going?” she asked, not making a move to pick up a book. She did toss herself into a chair, draping her legs over a padded arm.

“I was listening to the classical music,” Connor said, his lips curling back. He didn’t so much mind the station being changed but Faith not asking first pissed him off.

“So?” She shrugged. “It was boring.”

“You could have asked.” Connor got up and headed for the door.

“Connor.” Dawn’s eyebrows raised, a worried expression on her pale face. 

“I have things to do. You don’t need me.” Connor went back upstairs. He knew he was being childish but he didn’t need Lorelei’s degrees to know he was on the edge of something bad. First all the stuff at the school, and then the stuff about his parents and now being dismissed out of hand by Faith. He knew he was blowing that out of proportion but he couldn’t help it. He was tired of people treating him like he didn’t even exist.

He got his drugs out and started cooking. Someone knocked on the door. “Who is it?” He looped the leather strap loosely over his arm.

“Faith and Spike,” Faith called through the door. “Dawn got this idea we offended you, and Giles and Wes have started on the Mayans and Aztecs. They think they might be on to something.”

“Come in.” Connor looked up at them as they wandered into his room. They both froze, seeing him taking the spoon from the flame. He sucked the liquefied heroin up into a syringe.

“I was going to ask if you’re ready to hear some Angelus tales but you’re obviously busy,” Spike said uneasily, his eyes drifting to the syringe.

“I’ll be ready as soon as this cools enough to inject,” Connor replied, tightening the strap over his arm.

“Even after last night, when Angel said...I didn’t believe him.” Faith’s voice was as tight as the strap around his biceps as she stared at him in a way to suggest he was an alien form of life she had never imagined could exist.

“About what? The fact I’m a heroin junkie or that I’m a rough trade prostitute?” Connor tenderly guided the needle into his ravenous vein.

Faith’s eye’s hardened. “You say it like-”

“It’s an everyday part of my life,” he interrupted, without looking at her. He depressed the plunger. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as the drug roared through him. Connor moaned softly as his pains dissolved. He wanted to just slide away and be gone. He felt his body going, and he was in no mood to fight it

“You okay, kid?” Faith’s voice jarred him back to reality.

Connor looked up at Faith, a faint smile on his lips. “You’re still calling me kid after all this time.” His laugh was mirthless. “I’m fine, just on a nod.” He loosened the strap, and then got up, brushing past her and Spike. He tossed the syringe away before putting his works back up behind the ceiling tiles.

“I don’t think you have to worry about us stealing your drugs, kid.” Faith’s tone was sharp as the needle he had just disposed of.

Connor nearly toppled off the dresser he was standing on. Faith reached up a hand to steady him. “I’m not worried about you. The lock doesn’t work on my door, and I don’t want Joshua to wander in here and get curious. I won’t risk that.”

Faith’s lips thinned, and then she nodded. “That’s good.”

“I’ve done a lot of protecting kids. You might not think it but I have,” Connor said almost as if to convince himself of the fact. He needed to think his entire life wasn’t a complete waste. He needed that tiny sense of purpose.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Spike said, his blue eyes surveying Connor. “You definitely look like you could use a good embarrassing Angelus story.” A cocky grin played with the ex-vampire’s mobile mouth.

Connor mirrored it. “I really could.”

“Which should I tell you?” Spike asked, hobbling for the staircase. His sprained ankle was obviously bothering him. “The really humiliating one in Scotland or the time your sister put a whammy on him?”

“Sister? Oh, the Drusilla you were talking about,” Connor said.

“She’s special,” Spike replied as if that explained everything. “She’s not only mad as a bloody hatter, she has the ability to cloud your mind, make you see and do what she wants.”

Connor made a face. He hadn’t realized there were vampires who could do that. “That can’t be good in a vampire.”

“I’ve never come up against Dru, and I don’t want to,” Faith said with just enough fear to make Connor nervous.

Connor ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me the Dru story.”

Spike grinned. “Excellent choice. Let’s leave it until Rupert and Percy have had time to show you whatever it is they want you to see.”

Connor nodded his consent. “I’d hate to put the brakes on the research if we’re getting close to something.”

Once they were back in the library, Connor flopped down on the floor, ignoring his body’s demands to stretch out and sleep. Now that the research party was fuller, he decided he didn’t need to be taking up table space. The floor was good enough for him. He was nodding out anyhow. “Spike and Faith said you guys had something for me to look at.” Connor’s eyes flicked over to the newcomer to the room, the dark-haired woman he had scared the night of his bloody arrival. Her name had something to do with candles.

“Candeleria had a suggestion,” Giles said, sweeping a hand toward the woman. “Wesley and I overlooked this area of research, being perhaps a little too Eurocentric for our own good.” 

“We mentioned Aztecs and Mayans and never really pursued it,” Wesley said in their defense.

Candeleria kept from rolling her eyes but it obviously took effort. “Anyhow, as I was preparing to head back to Mexico for my own research, I was reminded of the cat-gods, sometimes protectors, sometimes slaughterers of the K’iche’ people but I don’t remember what they’d called. Sorry, not my field of research. I do know their iconography still exists in some villages. We are in what could have been the Balam’s territory once upon a time. I’d help but I’ve got a plane to catch. I’ll see you all in a month.”

“Thank you, Candeleria. You’ve been a help,” Giles said.

She smiled. “Not quickly enough. I get so wrapped up in my own work that I forget there are others who could use a hand,” she said, and then headed out.

“So we’ll have to look in a whole new set of books,” Connor said, torn between being eager to act on the clue and dread at having to slog through more dry tomes. 

“Yes but first you need to finish your drink. I noticed you skipped out on it,” Dawn said, handing him back the abandoned can of liquid protein.”

Connor made a face. “No offense to Willow but these are the most disgusting tasting things ever.”

“Drink it anyhow,” Dawn replied with a shrug of her slim shoulders.

“I’ll tell you that story about when Dru got her hooks into your dad’s brain while you gag that stuff down,” Spike said. “Might make you feel better.”

Connor grinned. “Deal.”

X X X

When Buffy came into the room, Connor looked up from his incredibly dull book in a language he didn’t know. He rubbed his tired eyes, strained from looking at the book plates trying to see if he could pick out a picture that resembled the killer. “How did it finish up at the school, Buffy?”

She slumped at the table. “Badly. Tricia broke down and Lorelei’s still wrapping things up with her.” Buffy ran a hand through her hair. “Leda just scares me. She’s not afraid of us. She’s just so angry.”

Connor watched Buffy’s eyes flick over to Faith who looked away, acutely embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s not your fault,” Buffy replied distractedly. “You’re the victim in this.”

“Still, I seem to be causing havoc wherever I go.” _Typical_ , Connor thought. _They should name a hurricane after me._

“Yes, I guess you do,” Buffy said as Angel came home. He walked into the library carrying several bags.

“Did you buy out the mall?” Buffy grinned at him.

Setting the bags down, he crossed over and put a jewelry box on the table in front of her. “For you. The rest is yours, Connor. Clothing, you needed it.”

Connor got up, not sure he could identify the feeling running through him. He thumbed through the bags quietly, amazed at his father’s generosity.

“I had to guess at the size but I’m usually pretty good at it. It’s just...well, I wanted to do something to help,” Angel was babbling, and Connor knew it was because his father was afraid he had pissed him off again. It gave him an odd sense of power.

Connor looked back at him and said very softly. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“You look depressed,” Angel said, and Connor realized that was part of those emotions he couldn’t pick apart. He was depressed that he was a grown man who needed his father’s charity. “If you don’t like them, we can-”

“They’re fine, really. I was just thinking that today’s been a day where a lot of people have been trying to make me feel like I don’t matter and here you come with a whole new wardrobe acting like I’m someone of worth.”

“You are.” Angel came back to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No matter what, to me you are.”

Connor bit back the surge of emotions, these ones identifiable: gratitude, grief, even love. He didn’t want these people to see him cry. He was saved by Lorelei’s arrival. She spared him a curious look as she came into the room and gave Giles a kiss.

“Do you want to talk now, Connor?” Lorelei’s green eyes almost begged him to say no so she could rest.

“I’m fine. You’ve probably dealt with enough major trauma today. We can start tomorrow.”

Lorelei visibly relaxed, almost dissolving onto Giles’ lap. “Thanks.”

“Besides, I was to get a good look at all the stuff Prissy bought me,” Connor said with a sly look in Angel’s direction.

Angel’s eyes widened, whirling to face Connor. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, Prissy.” Connor ran his hands through his long hair, wadding it up into two sloppy tails in either hand. “Guess your hair had to be as long as mine when Mom put iron curls in it.”

Angel spun on heel and launched himself at Spike who tried to hobble backwards. “You told!”

“Told what?” Buffy looked between Connor and Angel. “Who’s Prissy?”

“The young girl that Dru made Angelus think he was.” Connor snickered, trying to imagine his father like that. 

“You should have seen him in his dressing gown, making like he was the belle of the ball,” Spike said, a big smirk riding his lips.

“I’d have paid money to see that.” Giles flashed a toothy grin.

“Did you tell everyone?” Angel hauled Spike off his feet.

“Slayer, help!” Spike yelped, his hands grabbing onto Angel’s wrists.

“Which one of us?” Buffy grinned at him, nodding at Faith. “I might be on Angel’s side. Maybe Faith will help you.”

“I’ll tell you the story, too, luv, if you just call him off,” Spike promised.

“That’s not an impetus for my letting you go.” Angel shook him but not very hard.

Sighing, Buffy put a hand on his arm. “Let him go, Angel.”

Reluctantly Angel set him down gently, Connor noticed, probably to not jar the man’s injured ankle. Not that he thought his father would actually do Spike injury. “You’re dead,” Angel promised. “You won’t know when or where it’ll come from but you are so dead.” Angel yanked Spike closed, kissing his forehead, and then shoved him back.

Spike wiped his skin before pushing Connor. “I think you brought back Angelus, boy.”

“Me? You’re the one with the stories. But I’m willing to risk a resurgence of Angelus to hear more of them.” Connor grinned broadly.

This time Buffy shoved him. “No more stories.” She smiled slyly over at Angel. “Unless I’m invited to hear them.”

Angel shrugged. “See Spike? You must die.”

“Die?” Fred asked, coming into the room with Joshua. She pointed to the table. “Sit, young man so I can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re actually doing your homework.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Mom, homework sucks.”

A horrified expression plastered itself over Fred’s thin face. “It does not. Don’t make me make up my own homework for you.”

Joshua tossed himself down at the table, and then looked over at Connor. “Did your mom do stuff like this to you?”

Connor suspected this was a long standing argument and the boy was hoping for a new ally. “I didn’t really have a mom,” he replied, and Joshua’s eyes popped open, big as marbles. “But when I was a lot younger, your mom and dad tried to teach me things, your mom mostly. Eventually because I didn’t try really hard, I think she kinda gave up, which was bad because I knew I had disappointed her.”

“So you’re saying do my homework.” Joshua didn’t look pleased. “But what if you aren’t smart?”

“Joshua, you’re smart,” Fred countered, shooting her son a perplexed look, as if she couldn’t understand why he hated homework.

“I’m sure your mom’s right, Joshua. I wasn’t dumb. I just never had been in school, and the stuff Father taught me wasn’t good enough so I could understand your mom. I was too embarrassed to tell her that,” Connor said. “It would have been better if I would have just asked for help.”

“It gets better right?” Joshua’s chocolatey eyes remained wide.

“A lot better. Well... not math so much. I’m still hopeless there.” Connor smiled faintly. He decided he liked the inquisitive child.

Joshua had apple cheeks when he smiled. “I’m good in math.”

“Well, prove it young man,” Fred said, putting a hand on her son’s close-cropped hair. “You’ve pestered Connor long enough.” She stepped between Joshua and Connor and he knew what she was really doing was shielding her child from him. “I didn’t know you felt that way, Connor.” Her face held disappointment.

“I didn’t know how to say it and to be honest, back then I didn’t understand why you kept bothering me with all of that stuff, Fred. I had no idea of its importance,” Connor replied, trying not to feel offended. “It felt like you were trying to embarrass me or make me feel dumb. I know now that’s not the case.”

“I wish I had known,” she replied, and he almost believed her.

Connor shrugged. “I was a pain in the ah...uh butt,” he censored himself in front of Joshua. “Back then though I never understood why you and Gunn never figured out that an education in the usual sense was the least of my concerns in Quor-Toth. You were lucky I could read at all.”

Fred’s eyes had a startled look. “It...never even crossed my mind.”

Connor shrugged. It was such ancient history now but at the time it hurt. “Doesn’t matter. We think we’re on to something.” He pointed to Giles and Wesley and their books. He wanted a change of topic so he could slip away. He picked up the clothing and turned to go.

He didn’t quite make it before Xander and Cordelia came home. Cordelia took a look at the shopping bags he was carting upstairs and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You went shopping?” she asked it as if he had made an impossible excursion to the moon. 

Connor wished he knew why her obvious disdain for him hurt so much. It hurt worse to watch Xander loop an arm around Cordelia and pull her closer as if Connor were somehow infectious and she needed to be isolated. “Angel went shopping for me.”

She snorted. “Well, then at least maybe you’ll look a little better. Angel has great taste in clothing.”

Connor forced a smile, reminding himself Cordelia wasn’t the woman he had knew once upon a time, not anymore and all her brain damage was his fault. If he hadn’t gotten her pregnant, she wouldn’t be like this. “I remember you telling me that when you spent time with me at my place a long time ago.”

Cordelia’s brow knit as she tried to place that incident. Her eyes softened. “Were we honestly friends?”

This time his smile was genuine. “We were a long time ago.”

“Right, a long time ago,” Xander said, jealousy in his dark eyes. He steered Cordelia away from Connor before she could pursue the discussion.

It hurt more than Connor could say. He didn’t want anything from Cordelia, except maybe to be friends again. He knew it was pointless. No one wanted a junkie friend. Connor just gathered up the bags again and went upstairs, his heart so heavy he wasn’t sure how it still beat. It was obvious he wasn’t really welcome downstairs except by Angel and maybe Dawn and Giles. Spike and Buffy were iffy at best. Once again, he was the outsider and he felt the old wounds reopening in his soul.

Connor tossed the bags on the bed and against his better judgement started looking through the clothing again. It was good, handsomely cut, and probably expensive. What was Angel thinking? He could have gone to a thrift store and Connor would have been just as happy. This stuff was too good for him. He’d make Angel take it back tomorrow. Connor’s hand trembled as he unfolded a T-shirt, a very unlikely thing for Angel to have bought him and it simple said, _I’m Irish. I Only Look Sweet and Innocent_. It was probably the cheapest thing there, probably something Angel had bought on impulse and thought was funny. It was humorous but it made him cry.

It was insane, something as simple as a T-shirt shouldn’t make him lose it, yet it did. The rest of the clothing was impersonal, things that his dad found fashionable. The T-shirt was an attempt at a connection but it was far too late for that. He was unwanted and best forgotten. Connor folded the shirt to his chest and wept.

Finally, he ran dry and he laid the shirt on the bed. Connor combed his hair forward as he went downstairs, hoping to hide his red eyes and glistening cheeks. He heard Dawn calling him to come eat with them as he passed the library but he just said he wasn’t hungry. He needed to escape the building. He heard her protest and Xander urging her to let him go. The tears pricked his eyes hot and urgent again. How could he feel so lonely in a crowded room? He ignored Angel’s inquires after him.

Once outside, Connor relaxed, letting the night breeze kiss the damp flesh of his face. This was where he belonged. He paused briefly, feeling eyes on him. Connor whipped around, anticipating Angel there but the street was empty. He hadn’t expected that but the idea that he was being watched didn’t ease. Connor moved slowly away from the Hyperion, trying to decide what he would do next. Maybe he should go pay Darts and Tin Man a visit, help Anne out some. Nights could be bad at a kid’s shelter.

As he walked on, the feeling of being watched intensified. The breeze shifted, alerting him that Angel was behind him. Connor picked up his pace and was thoroughly unsurprised when Angel did so as well. Connor stopped. “What is it, Dad? What do you want?” Gone was any of the gratitude he felt. Why couldn’t he express what he was really feeling? Maybe because it made him too vulnerable and that was the one thing he couldn’t allow himself to be.

“Where are you going, son?” Angel’s voice was soft, almost lost to the street noise.

Connor turned woodenly to face Angel. “What do you care?”

“I can tell you’re upset.” His father reached out to him as he walked. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” Connor spat. “It’s night. Work time. I have a street corner to go sell myself on.” Maybe that would make Angel go away. If that happened maybe all the bleeding from his soul would stop.

Angel didn’t stop or even slow down. “Connor, don’t be like this.”

“Like what, Dad?” Connor’s lips skinned back. ‘Like what I am?”

“Connor.” Angel did stop now, looking at him so sadly Connor started to cry again. Angel’s eyes widened as his body tensed. He fell back a step into a defensive stance. “Move!”

Connor’s body reacted to the command before he even registered it. Cellular memory of Quor-Toth perhaps, drove him into action. He flipped backwards, feeling claws raking skin. His chest burned, and he nearly lost his balance. She was on him coming from upwind. Angel grabbed her, pulling her away from him before her claws could find him.

She twisted, her claws tearing into Angel’s face. He fell back, hissing in pain. He automatically shifted into his true demonic visage. Connor was struck now by her feline appearance; she was sleek, sinewy and graceful in motion. He already knew she was deadly.

“Where is he?” she asked, clawing at Angel. “Tell me, leech. I smell him on you and his...no, he dares to have offspring that are not mine?”

Connor felt a little sick, realizing they had been wrong in thinking it was Angel she was after. Caught unawares, neither of them had a weapon in hand. Connor jumped on her back, his hand questing for her chin to try and snap her neck. He was too out of practice. She twisted, neatly flipping him over her head. He slammed hard into the concrete of the sidewalk. Connor’s vision dimmed, and he smelled his own blood from where his scalp scraped and split.

Angel kicked her away, and then yanked Connor up. Angel’s eyes held concern for him but more importantly concern for those left behind. They couldn’t take the fight back there just in case the demoness hadn’t quite found the Hyperion. Maybe she hadn’t. She hadn’t tried to get inside so there was some hope.

Connor wiped the blood off the back of his head and flicked some at her. “Come on, bitch. Follow me to him.” Connor took off in the opposite direction of the Hyperion. Usually he could out run most things but he wasn’t himself anymore and his body was unwell. The blow to the head was telling, making him sick to his stomach. Connor could feel her loping along behind him and prayed his dad was going to get his back He also wished for a good weapon. Connor dodged down an alleyway and caught a fire escape. He chinned up on it and when she ran under him, he caught her head between his legs. As he tried to snap her neck, she bit his calf. 

Crying out, he dropped her. Angel grabbed her arm, crushing her face first into the brick wall. She slashed out with her back claws. Angel had to dance away, and she took the opportunity to run. She climbed on the run onto the ladder of an eighteen-wheeler and was gone. Connor dropped off the fire escape, wincing in pain.

“How bad did she get you?” Angel fretted, pulling him to a street light so he could check out Connor’s head wound first. His face still bore ridges and fangs peeked out from between his lips making Connor uncomfortable.

“I’m fine.” Connor looked up the street. “She sure didn’t like it when we took the fight to her.”

“No, and you’re not fine. Let’s get back to the hotel so I can fix you up.”

Connor nodded. “Yeah...and now we get to tell Gunn he’s the one she’s after. I’m not betting Joshua’s all that safe.”

Angel sighed. “I’m afraid you’re right. And Connor...if you have a problem at the hotel, you can talk to me about it you know that right?”

“No, actually I can’t and you know it,” Connor said. “You know the problem.” Connor looked into his father’s eyes. Angel knew exactly what he meant. His father understood his child was unwanted, that he was seen as little more than a druggie. Angel didn’t want it to be real, and Connor couldn’t tell him how much he wanted to be anything but what he was.

“Let’s get you back there,” Angel said non-committedly. 

Connor limped after his father, not looking forward to the fear this would generate. Part of him wondered if somehow he’d get blamed. Everything else seemed to be his fault in some manner or another.


	18. Tempers Flare

Chapter Eighteen 

_And now I try hard to make it_  
I just want to make you proud  
I’m never gonna be good enough for you  
I can’t pretend that  
I’m alright  
And you can’t change me  
 **Perfect -Simple Plan**

“I’m telling you, she’s after you, Gunn,” Connor said, as Willow bound his leg wound after taking the time to cleanse the wound well. She blithely ignored his grunts of pain. Connor tried to ignore the audience he had in the living room. Didn’t they get tired of having so many people around all the time? Giles and Wes were still working the books. At least Faith and Spike seemed to be out as was Xander, Dawn and Cordy. Still, that left half the team seeing him half-naked as Willow patched him up.

“Why would she be after Charles?” Fred melted into her husband’s side as they sat on the couch. “You have to be wrong.” The look in her eyes said it might have been something Connor dreamed up in a drug induced haze.

“I agree with Connor,” Angel said, placatingly, glancing over at Connor as if to supervise Willow’s treatment of him. “The demoness didn’t say much but I came to the same conclusion.”

“And she’s pissed that you have kids by someone other than her, Gunn,” Connor added as Willow switched her attention to his head wound. He tried not to wince as her talented fingers probed his wounds. “Try to go light on the gauze if you can, Willow. It’s going to be hard enough to find work looking like I escaped from the Egyptian display at the museum.” Connor expertly ignored several of the sharp looks shot his way at that but he did spare the time to show Angel the defiant glint in his eyes. He might hate what he was but he’d be damned if they knew it.

“It makes sense and it goes with the white board layout. Gunn had contact with almost every victim who wasn’t homeless,” Buffy said, gesturing to the interconnections Kate had made on the board.

“But why would a demoness want to kill me?” Gunn’s eyes were on that board, tracking his connection to the evil outside. “I mean without me provoking her first.”

“That’s what we have to find out,” Wesley put in, setting aside his book to glance at the board as well.

“Or if she even wants you dead,” Connor said, thinking about the demon’s motivations. He had grown up trying to determine what demons were thinking. “She’s looking for you but who knows if she actually wants to kill you or not.”

“Connor has a point,” Giles said, taking his glasses off for a polish. “It’s too early to know what her purpose is and the remark about Joshua is most peculiar, as if she thinks she had a claim on you, Gunn.”

“All I know is she’s killing people and Charles is mine,” Fred said, giving her husband a kiss. Connor heard the underpinning of fear in her voice.

“We need to do more research,” Wesley said, rubbing his tired eyes. “We still don’t know nearly enough about this creature.”

“We learned that she doesn’t like it when she’s going up against people of equal strength,” Connor said sardonically as Willow finished bandaging him up. “She took off pretty damn fast when faced with me and Dad.”

Angel couldn’t help the subtle pleased look on his face when Connor called him ‘dad.’ “Connor’s right. She didn’t want to deal with us. We got a very good look at her. I’ll draw up a new sketch.”

“I think we should take Candelaria’s suggestion and concentrate on the Mayan connection.” Giles’ voice betrayed his exhaustion. He put his glasses back on, squinting at the stack of books.

Angel just nodded, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “We’ve done as much as we can tonight. We need a break. Why don’t I help you upstairs, Connor? He should rest, shouldn’t he, Willow?”

Willow bobbed her head, packing up her medical bag. “It would be good.”

Connor slowly got up. He wasn’t about to argue. He was in pain. All he wanted to do was just lie down and let the ache fade from his body. Connor flinched when Angel touched him. He looked at his dad apologetically. “That was just pain, not....”

Angel smiled softly, obviously thinking he was making headway with him. Connor knew his own defenses were down, too weary to keep them up. “Lean on me, give the leg a rest. We can go up the elevator.”

Connor returned the smiled and leaned his weight on Angel. His father wrapped his arm around him, helping him into the elevator and finally into his room.

“Is there anything you need?” Angel looked worried. It was making it hard on Connor to maintain his anger at the man.

Connor shook his head, instantly regretting it as pain flared behind his eyes. “I just need some rest.” He stretched out on the bed, trying to pull the covers down while laying on them.

“It’s not been easy on you, has it? This week hasn’t been your best, between the demoness and rogue slayers,” Angel said sympathetically, helping Connor with the viciously colored bedspread.

“And finding out about the truth about myself, don’t forget that.” Connor smiled ruefully. It felt like decades instead of days since Angel came back into his life. The experience made him feel old and worn like the thin-fabric clothing he got from the mission.

Angel snorted, a sound somewhere between amused and concerned. “Like I said, rough.”

Connor managed a short bark of bitter laughter. “Always the master of understatement.”

Angel patted his son’s arm. “Anything I can do for you, Connor? Are you hungry?”

“There are those cookies in the top drawer,” Connor said, and Angel bounded over to the dresser, happy to have something he could do for his child. As he unwrapped the high protein cookie, Connor added, “And you can take back all the clothing you bought.”

Angel’s face fell, his eyes glistening like wet marbles, broadcasting the emotional hurt. “Why?”

Connor looked at the cracked grayed paint on the wall. “Because they’re too good for me.”

“No, they’re not.” Angel’s voice took on that ‘I know best’ tone that Connor loathed. “I want you to have the clothing for later, when you’re well again.”

Connor’s vision shifted to the dust web in the corner, anywhere but at Angel. “What makes you think that’s going to happen?”

“I....” Angel sagged, crushed. Connor braved a look and saw how much Angel had been hoping to get his son back happy and whole. He was willing to ignore reality in that quest. “You said you got clean once before for your sister but there was no one there to catch you if you fell. I’m here now.”

Connor’s eyes went wet, and he turned from his father. He didn’t want Angel to know that he was breaking through the armor. Connor’s stubborn pride wouldn’t let him. “It was so hard and I was so sick...and almost no one cared. I never felt so alone.”

Sitting on the bed, Angel gently rubbed Connor’s back. “You aren’t alone any more, not if you don’t want to be.”

That broke past the last of Connor’s resolve. Tears fell hot and fast. He felt like a little boy who had a nightmare and wanted comforted. Ironic, since Holtz considered that a weakness. “I hate myself, and I hate the prison I made for myself.”

Angel scooped his son up as tenderly as he could and held him. He shuddered as Connor wrapped his arms around him and held on. It felt awkward and natural at the same time to Connor. Only at this close range, he could hear nothing and that lack of a heart beat was chilling. “There’s a key to this prison, son.” Angel hugged him hard. “I know it’ll take you time but Lorelei is here to help, and if you need to go back into a program, she’ll make it happen. I’m not done fighting for you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Connor muttered, forgetting for a moment all his hatreds. “All I give you is hate but you won’t let it go at that.”

“Because I don’t believe you despise me.” Angel’s hand soothed Connor’s hair, cautious of the wound on the back of his son’s head. “You might loathe yourself for knowing that I love you and the fact that you want to be loved.”

“I think I hate everything,” Connor whispered, too weak to hold back his feelings.

“It’s time to let that all go, son.” Angel held Connor tighter. He didn’t reply. He just went very quiet for a long time, slowly getting heavier and looser limbed in Angel’s arms. Realizing Connor was almost asleep, Angel set him down on the mattress. Connor’s almond-shaped blue eyes opened slightly. “Didn’t mean to wake you back up,” Angel said. “That bed is pretty hard.”

“Like a rock,” Connor murmured, burying his face in the stale feather pillow. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Angel fixed the covers around him. “Sleep well, son.”

X X X

Connor surprised himself by getting up very early. He used just a little heroin to take the edge off. It seemed like he was using less and less, partly because he had other things to occupy his time and partly because he was ashamed. Maybe there was hope for him after all. Going downstairs, Connor found the hotel buzzing with activity as everyone was sitting down to breakfast. Well, almost everyone. Willow, Cordy, Spike and Xander were already gone or not yet awake. Having Joshua at the table, his little legs dangling with youthful energy, made it seem like a strange Norman Rockwell picture. The room smelled warm and spicy.

“Hi, son,” Angel said, looking like he needed to go find his bed. Connor nodded his greeting. 

Dawn smiled at him, glancing up from a little pad she was doodling on. “There’s a crock pot full of real oatmeal and blueberries, not that instant junk. Help yourself.”

Connor smiled back. Having Dawn around made him feel somehow serene. “Thanks.” He took a little, and then looked at the array of sweeteners and heavy cream. He mixed in some honey and cream and a heavy dose of cinnamon and touch of nutmeg. He sat down next to Faith.

“How’s your head, kid?” Faith touched his bandaged temple.

“Throbbing,” he answered honestly. Faith made him feel anything but serene. She excited things in him he thought long dead. “But compared to the last time I went up against her, I’m doing just fine.” 

“I don’t like that the demoness seems to be getting closer to where we live,” Buffy grumbled, hitting her oatmeal with more cinnamon. Angel waved away some reddish-brown blow back.

“My parents are on a cruise or else I’d send Josh for a visit,” Fred said with a nervous glance at her son. Josh was oblivious to his mother’s hidden meaning, as he cut trails in the remains of his oatmeal.

“I never get to see grandma and grandpa,” Josh said, disappointment on his face.

“Is it really bad that I don’t have friends outside of this city...just in case Josh needs to...uh visit, if you know what I mean,” Fred said, sounding to Connor that she had accepted his theory on who the demoness really wanted. He was pretty sure getting the boy out of town would be a good idea.

“I think it’s kinda natural,” Buffy replied, placatingly. Giles lowered the paper he was reading, just enough to nod his agreement. “But a little unfortunate.”

“Well, Vonna is willing to keep Josh longer after school,” Fred said, relief in her eyes. She pushed away an almost full bowl of oatmeal. Gunn shot her a worried look.

“Vonna?” Connor questioned curiously. He didn’t know why he felt it was his business other than he always felt protective of kids.

“She’s my friend, Thomas’s fiancée. She lives just one block from school so it’s very convenient for Josh to stay there after school,” Gunn replied, reaching over, shaking his son’s shoulder playfully.

“Has to be nice that you can stay with your Dad’s friend,” Connor said to Joshua. He hated the thought the kid might be somehow afraid of him so he wanted to be as friendly as he could.

Josh grinned. “She’s a lot of fun. I like Vonna.”

“Glad to hear it, kiddo.” Fred leaned over and kissed her son’s forehead. “I’ll make sure Vonna knows what’s going on so she can be extra careful.”

“She knows about our world?” Connor asked, surprised. He took a bite of the thick savory hot cereal.

“Thomas was part of my original vampire hunting group. He brought it back to what I originally wanted for it, after it got off track,” Gunn replied, looking a little less put out that Connor was talking to his son. Fred still seemed to think he’d hook Josh on drug just by breathing the same air as the boy.

“I remember you telling me about the group,” Connor said, almost enjoying talking like they were revisiting the old days with just him, Fred and Gunn.

“Connor,” Lorelei broke in, shooting him an apologetic look. She held her tea cup out to Giles who refilled it obligingly. “I’ve an open hour this morning. Would you like to talk with me?”

Connor nodded. “I’d like that. Angel and I were talking last night about me trying to get myself together. Finding out what if anything is really wrong here,” Connor tapped his forehead, “will help in putting me back together.”

“You’re sick?” Joshua piped up, ignoring his mother’s attempt to hush him.

“Yes, but you don’t have to worry. It’s not anything you or your mom and dad can catch,” Connor said reassuringly. “Lorelei is going to help me get well.”

“I hope it doesn’t take long,” Joshua said, smiling at him.

Connor grinned back. He liked the little kid. “Thanks.”

“Josh, you better finish getting ready for school,” Fred said, glancing up at the clock.

“Okay, Mom.” Joshua jumped up and headed upstairs.

“He’s a sweet kid,” Connor said, forcing himself to eat more of his oatmeal. He wondered what his father was thinking, given how silent the vampire was. He could feel Angel’s eyes on him.

“Thanks, we’re proud of him,” Gunn said, his eyes tracing his son’s departure.

“I can see why.” Connor took another mouthful of cereal.

“You’re doing good with the oatmeal.” Dawn waved at the bowl as Faith got up and put her bowl in the sink before leaving. 

Connor smirked. “I’ve a little bit of an appetite today.”

“That’s good,” Angel said, looking as happy as if Connor had announced something major.

“Connor, I have something that I’m not sure you’d want to see. You might but it might make you sad instead,” Dawn said, twirling a long lock of hair around a finger.

He studied her pretty face for a moment. “Well, I’m curious now.”

“Do you remember the video Haven shot of you for her art project?” Dawn asked, downing the last of her orange juice.

Connor thought for a moment. That was a lifetime ago. “Yeah. It was supposed to be action footage. Haven wasn’t thrilled with the assignment. It wasn’t her medium.”

“I didn’t like it much either but I remembered last night that these projects were all in the school’s archives. I downloaded her film but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about seeing something from back then,” Dawn said, conflicted feelings flickering in her eyes. She was actually worried about his feelings. How long had it been since anyone other than Angel had done that? A lump developed in his throat.

Connor ran his fingers through his long hair. “I...don’t know. I think I would like to see her project again. I guess if it’s hard, I can talk to a psychiatrist.” Connor smiled over at Lorelei, who nodded encouragingly.

“I’d like to see it if you don’t mind, Connor,” Angel said, quietly. He looked askance at his son as if unable to face any rejection.

Connor glanced at his father and saw the desperate desire to be part of his life. He didn’t have the heart to say no. “Sure. It’s not that exciting, though, Angel. Just me indulging the hobbies I had back then. My dad had money so I was into snowboarding, parachuting, parkour and motocross, all kinds of expensive and extreme sports.”

“Don’t tell Joshua that. I’ll never hear the end of it. He wants to get into the trick riding with his bike, and I don’t want him doing anything that dangerous,” Fred fretted, and Gunn rolled his eyes. Connor guessed this was an old argument.

“No, I won’t say anything,” he promised. Connor wanted to make some kind of peace with Fred. “Let Angel see the video first, Dawn. Give me a little time to work up to seeing ‘Man in Motion’.”

“‘Man in Motion’?” Buffy roused herself a little bit from her early morning stupor. Her eyes looked like glazed glass.

Connor looked at his remaining oatmeal, his appetite beginning to flag. “That was the name of the piece.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Dawn’s crystalline eyes danced with mischief.

Connor gave her a curious look. “Yes, it was.”

“That’s right, you didn’t attend the showing,” Dawn said, her brow creased as she went back over time.

“Usually I did but I had finals,” he replied, a little dread tickling in his belly. “I couldn’t make that show. What did Haven call the project?”

Dawn’s lips parted in a wide smile. “Well, she put the recorder and TV screen inside a clay sculpture of a man’s torso down to his thighs and if certain...um, parts were cast from you, I could see why Haven was always so happy.” Dawn smirked.

“Dawn!” Buffy snapped, her cheeks flushed. Angel seemed equally embarrassed even if he couldn’t blush. 

Dawn tossed her long hair back. “What?”

“No one wants to hear about any of Connor’s parts over breakfast. Faith’s already left,” Buffy said, glaring at her sister.

“Is that what she did with that penile representation? She never did tell me,” Connor said, deciding to ignore Buffy’s slight. Angel shot him an incredulous look. “What? Haven said it was for art.”

“And it was,” Dawn said, laughing. “Right at the pubic line, Haven made a slit for ballots. The title was ‘Which is Bigger, Brains or Balls. You vote’.”

Connor snorted, shaking his head. Yes, this was typical Haven behavior. “Let me guess, no one voted for my brains.”

“No one.” Dawn patted his shoulder.

“I’m so glad. I wouldn’t want there to be any confusion on that point.” Connor rolled his eyes.

“Guess your girlfriend was impressed with you.” Gunn laughed.

“Tell me about it.” Connor pushed his bowl aside.

“I had a girlfriend who wanted to do something like that in the 70’s,” Giles broke his silence, giving a sign he had been paying attention to any of them.

“And women say men are the perverts.” Connor rolled his eyes. “I’d definitely want to get with you, Lorelei, before I start looking at times when I was happy.” He licked his lips, unsure if he’d ever want to see happy times again. “You can watch it first, Angel.”

“I think I’m afraid to see whatever this is,” Angel said, a hint of a mischievous smile on his lips. “Your life has been...interesting.”

“It’s been a ride, I’ll grant you that.” Connor rubbed his chin, thinking back on his younger days. “Haven liked using me in her art.”

“It’s been a long time since you’ve modeled for me. You have compelling eyes. I want to use them again,” Dawn said, tracing his brow.

“Dawn, you’re starting to creep me out,” Buffy said, wrinkling her nose, and Angel shot her a put-out look.

“Artists are a different bunch. I think that’s why I always liked them, much to my parents’ chagrin,” Connor said.

“A shame. I’ve always liked artists,” Angel said.

“Well, being one yourself, I can see why you would,” Connor said, and then glanced over at Lorelei. “When would you like to talk to me?”

Lorelei brushed back a long lock of red hair. “We can start right now.”

“Okay and later Giles, I can help you with the research,” Connor said. “Just let me know what you need.”

“Thanks, Connor,” Giles said.

Connor got up and followed Lorelei to her office, feeling very nervous about opening up to anyone.

X X X

Connor knew he was totally useless to Giles, Spike and Wes during their research session. His time with Lorelei hadn’t been easy. While she was kind and understanding, the questions were hard and the experience left him hollow and afraid. He had battled his emotions back with heroin, lots of it. He was higher than he’d been in days. He had fallen asleep right after shooting up, off on a fantastic nod. He couldn’t concentrate on anything after he managed to drag himself back to the library. He felt stunningly embarrassed by his inability to help. He wished that he could just stop screwing up so much.

In the end, he agreed to help Dawn with her own study break, getting him away from the books and his inadequacies. He let her paint replicas of his eyes onto a black-washed canvas. She described her vision for the work. The surrealism of it appealed to him. He knew it might be while before his saw the finished work and he couldn’t wait. They had been back at work in the library when Buffy and Angel came home for the evening and went up to their apartment. Giles, Wes, and Dawn were tracing down obscure texts in strange languages awhile he and Spike were dealing with the books and sites in English. Connor found a website in Spanish that had pictures of one of the Balam that looked sort of like the demoness but not exactly. 

He was scrolling through the site when Buffy stalked down the steps, changed into casual clothes. Her face was stitched tight with anger. Angel trailed behind her, obviously upset. Buffy yanked Connor’s chair away from the desk and spun him so he faced her. She clamped her hands down on the arms of the chair, leaning into his face.

“Why did you do it?” she growled, looking at him as if he were something to slay.

Connor pressed back in the seat to put some space between them. “What are you talking about?” 

“I’m missing twenty dollars.” Her tone suggested he was well acquainted with his crime. “Why did you take it?”

“I didn’t,” Connor replied, furious that she would accuse him. A glance at his father told Connor helped wasn’t coming from that quarter, which shocked him. Usually Angel tried to mellow Buffy out.

“Did my twenty grow legs and walk off?” Buffy pushed off the chair. It spun. Connor stopped the arc, seeing Dawn, Spike, Giles, and Wes were watching this. His face burned with shame and anger.

“I don’t know what the hell happened to your money,” Connor growled, seeing Dawn start toward him but a look from Buffy stopped her. “I didn’t take it.”

Buffy jabbed her fists against her hips. “You’ve stolen from me before!”

“Once and I gave you back the change and worked off what I couldn’t give back. And I admitted to it,” Connor said, scratching at the healing track mark on his arm nervously, feeling like the room was turning against him.

“Just give her the money back, Connor. I don’t even want to know why you took it,” Angel said wearily. His eyes held deep disappointment in their dark depths.

Connor’s jaw dropped. “Thanks for believing in me, Angel. I didn’t take Buffy’s damn money but don’t believe me. What does it matter?” Connor got up and nearly knocked Buffy down as he brushed past her. He pulled away from her as Buffy made a grab for him.

Connor thundered up the steps, surprised that no one stopped him. He grabbed his works, to hell with them. To hell with the fact he was already high. He needed to escape this place where no one wanted him. Just when he thought maybe he could patch things up with his father, Angel thought he was a thief. Okay, he was but he had promised to not steal from Buffy. It hurt that his word meant nothing. He needed for the soul-deep ache to fade. He took out the little baggie of smack but didn’t have time to knock some onto his spoon before the door opened. Angel stomped in, his face lined with anger.

“Just tell me why.” Angel shut the door behind him.

“Thought you didn’t want to know,” Connor said, opening the baggie. He knew that was the wrong thing to say but he understood this path. This was easy, fighting with Angel. Fighting felt safer than being emotionally flayed open like last night. Hard and cruel was how his world was, everyone against him and Angel being all passive-aggressive with the I love you’s while doing everything to prove those words to be a lie.

“I’m sure I can guess why.” Angel grabbed the baggie away, and then snatched the needle out of Connor’s fingers. Too stunned to stop him, Connor watched Angel flush the drugs and crush the needle against the wall. 

Connor slammed a fist into the floor, and then jumped up to his feet, ignoring the twinge in his injured leg. “Why did you do that? That was the last of my candy.”

Angel whirled on him and Connor thought he’d be going into a wall head first just like old times. “You’re high enough.” 

“Go to hell. Now I have to go back out on the street but hey, what do you care?” Connor spat the words like rancid meat. “You can’t even be bothered to believe me.”

Angel got between him and the door. “You’re not going out there.”

“You going to fight me, Angel?” Connor growled, hoping so. That would be normal. Battling Angel was something he could understand. “Want me to go out the window? My leg still hurts but I could probably stick the landing.”

Angel’s jaw clenched but he stepped aside. Connor stood still for a moment, shocked that Angel wasn’t going to push the issue. He expected his father to stop him or follow him but Angel didn’t do anything, almost disappointing him. 

Connor made it to the street without anyone bothering him. He nearly hoped for the demoness to cross his path. The rage bubbling in him needed an outlet, especially since he knew that he was angrier than he really should be over the accusations. The hurt was deeper than he would have expected and far more than he wanted. He needed to carve it out of him.

Connor made a call to Madam Dorion, knowing she had more brothels than the one the demoness had torn up. She was glad to hear from him and had work waiting for him, including two of his vampires who traded blood for smack. He could lose himself in the pain, blood, sweat and other bodily fluids. He understood this part of his world, too.

Sometime later he was cleaning up in the bathroom between tricks, feeling woozy from blood loss and narcotics when someone rapped on the door. Grimacing, Connor wished Dorion’s manager here would give him a little down time. She was no Honey, who knew the benefits of a slightly rested whore. Connor went over and opened the door, feeling his stomach twist. He wished that anyone but his father was standing there. He should have known that Angel would follow him eventually, if just to be sure he was all right. He didn’t think Angel would come in here. “Go away,” Connor said, turning his back on him.

“You’re coming with me,” Angel said softly, and grabbed Connor’s arm, turning him around. Angel couldn’t meet Connor’s eyes, however. His gaze lifted over Connor’s shoulder to fix on the messy bed.

Connor didn’t want to do this, to be standing in a little cell of a room reeking of sin, talking to his father. “I promised Dorion to be here until dawn.”

Angel’s thin lips pulled into a tight line. “She knows you won’t be.”

God, what had his father done now? Connor shook his head. “I don’t want you seeing me like this,” he whispered, stunned by the truth of those words.

“Do you think it’s easy for me to see you dying a slow death, Connor?” Angel crossed over to him, suddenly looking less angry.

Connor bit back the tears. “Your wife wants her money back, and I need more heroin now, thanks to you, so I have to work.”

“Think you’ll survive another night like the last one you spent with Dorion?” Angel touched the bite marks on Connor’s neck.

He couldn’t abide this turn around. Angel had no right to go from loving to accusing and back again. It was too confusing. Connor needed Angel to find an emotion and stay there. Connor knew the one that made the most sense. “You should have thought of that before you flushed my smack.”

Angel’s hand came up before Connor could move and the open-hand slap landed hard on his cheek. He stumbled back against the bed, his suppressed rage finding its trigger with no anti-demon violence spell to stop them. Connor punched his father and quickly learned a lesson about suppressed rage. His couldn’t compete against Angel’s. He wondered dimly as Angel’s fists slammed against his face and body if it wasn’t rage so much as fear driving Angel. Whenever Angel seemed afraid, he always took it out on Connor with his fists. Usually, Connor could give as good as he got but tonight he couldn’t stand up to the onslaught.

His father didn’t even seem to notice the fight had gone out of him and that all Connor was doing was trying to protect his head as he curled into a ball on the soiled bedding. Tears mixed with his blood as he wept in pain.

Angel’s hand suddenly gentled as they cupped his shoulder. “Connor, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean...I lost control,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Leave me alone!” Connor sobbed, wiping blood from his lips. His ears rang and his stomach would have emptied if there had been anything in it.

“I’m sorry.” Desperation and remorse cracked Angel’s voice.

“Fuck off,” Connor growled, trying to sit up. The room swam.

Angel’s pleas were cut off as the door burst open and two security guards that Dorion used went after Angel. Connor knew they would only be momentary distractions. He shoved his feet into his boots, grabbed his shirt, money and newly earned heroin, and then ran. His vision still danced and swirled as he went.

Eventually he had to slow down or fall down. Connor knew Angel was right behind him. His father didn’t speak to him or try to stop him. He figured Angel was looking out for him. Part of him cared but more of him was frightened at how vulnerable he was now. It seemed so foreign. He had barely put up a fight as Angel took him apart.

Connor went inside the Hyperion to where the research party was still going on. Cordy and Xander had joined them. Everyone hushed as he entered the room, blood caked on his face. He knew he had to look horrible. He could barely see out of one eye and could only imagine how purple it was. His split lip seemed too big for his face and tasted like a newly minted penny.

Connor held out twenty dollars to Buffy. She just looked at it as if she had never seen the like before. “Take it.”

“What happened to you?” She made no move to claim her money.

He shook the bill. He couldn’t tell them the truth. It would humiliate him and Angel. “Nothing.”

“Connor, we’re fighting a demoness with a grudge against us. ‘Nothing’ isn’t going to cut it as an answer,” Buffy snapped, still not taking the money.

He flung the bill in her lap. “I’m a rough trade prostitute. It’s not like I don’t get beaten up all the time. It’s what they pay me for. They buy me, and I pay you the money I didn’t steal.”

“I’m betting you don’t usually let them mess up your face.” Buffy bounced her leg until the money fluttered off. She seemed determined not the touch the bill, as if it could infect her with something.

“He stole from you? You didn’t steal from me too, did you?” Cordelia grimaced at him.

Connor sighed, wishing they’d all stop looking at him. “I didn’t steal from anyone.”

“I know how much money I had, and I know what I spend in a day. I’m missing twenty dollars,” Buffy said, her eyes not leaving his battered face.

“Coffee and muffins,” Cordy piped up, passing a book to Fred. “We were out of petty cash this morning, and you bought the coffee and muffins for everyone. Remember?”

The horrified look on Buffy’s face said she hadn’t remembered. 

Connor curled his lip at her. “Told you I didn’t steal from you. And if you don’t mind, my head is killing me, and I need a shower.” He turned and headed for the stairs.

“Right or wrong about the money, B has a point. We need to know what really happened to your face,” Faith said, getting up as if to stop him.

“Just leave it alone,” Connor said, glancing back at Angel who looked utterly defeated. He knew as well as Connor that wasn’t going to happen. They’d push until the truth came out, and the truth would only make them hate him that much more, Connor was sure.

“We can’t,” Buffy said right on cue.

“Dad took objection to my life style, of how I earn my money and how I speak to him and he beat the shit out of me. Happy now?” Connor growled. Screw it. He didn’t owe anyone anything.

Buffy’s body got so tight Connor thought she might implode. Dawn seemed too stunned to move and Xander shot a look of loathing at both Angel and Connor. Only Wes, Fred and Gunn seemed unsurprised. They had seen this before, of course. “How about trying the truth?” 

“Connor’s many things, Buffy, but he’s not a liar. He hates lies. Oh, he can lie very well for someone who grew up with only one other person in his whole world and no real reason to learn the talent but he’s not lying now,” Angel said, holding out his bloody knuckles for inspection. The look in his eyes told Connor Angel knew trouble was heading his way, and he was willing to accept it as his due. “I’m sorry, son.”

“So you keep telling me like this is the _first_ time you’ve ever beaten me. Hell, I’m shocked it took so long. Usually we didn’t go a day without you cramming my head into something,” Connor snarled, heading up the steps away from the stunned, accusatory looks like he was somehow at fault for getting himself beaten. He did contribute to it, of course, but it was a worse beating than he deserved. No one followed him, and he was relieved.

He could hear the destruction he left behind. Connor tried to ignore them but the words bounced around his head. _How could you, Angel?_ from Buffy and Dawn’s simple _Angel, why?_ Why didn’t it surprise him to hear Xander saying, _Told you, you can’t trust a vampire_ or Fred’s _Connor brings this on himself all the time. He provokes it whenever he can._ The most disturbing was Faith’s heartbroken _Angel, I thought you were better than this._

Connor slammed his door shut to block out all the voices, to throw up a barrier between him and his pity for his father. Angel didn’t need to deal with what he was facing now, even if he had lost his temper. It wasn’t like Connor wouldn’t heal and maybe he did have it coming. He started washing the blood off his face just to try and assess the damage before he got in to the shower to get the rest of the filth off of him. His one eye had swelled so much the blue eye behind the lids was barely visible.

Someone knocked on the door and came in. Connor didn’t even look over to see who it was. He knew. “Go away, Angel.”

“Connor, please let me talk to you,” Angel came over to him and touched Connor’s face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not tonight, Angel. You couldn’t believe me about the money and then you do this.” Connor gestured at his face. “I don’t want to talk to you tonight. Tomorrow maybe. For now, just go.” Why couldn’t the man just leave him alone?

“All right.” Angel left without further protest.

Connor only took two steps towards the bathroom when the door opened again. “Angel, I was serious. I don’t want to talk to you tonight.”

“Given the look on Angel’s face, I think he gets that.”

Connor glanced back at Dawn, surprised. His nose was too swollen to pick up her scent. He hadn’t expected her and couldn’t figure out why she was here. “I’m not really in the mood to talk to anyone, Dawn.”

“No, I’m sure you’re not. I just wanted to give you these.” She held up a bag of beef jerky, a protein drink and an ice pack. “I’m betting you didn’t eat anything for dinner, and your poor face could use a little ice. Need help cleaning up?”

He wilted. This made no sense. Why was she so nice to him? “You don’t need to touch my blood. Willow says I’m clean, but just in case...”

Dawn shook her head, giving him the goodies. She folded up a face towel and wet the cloth. “Sit on the bed.”

“You don’t have to do this.” He sat on the edge of the bed gingerly. “I need to shower anyhow.”

“This will only take a minute.” Dawn gently sponged his face. He trembled at her touch. “He made a mess out of you.”

“I heal fast.” He tried to sound dismissive. He didn’t want her to worry.

“I can’t believe Angel did this.” Dawn dabbled the blood off his lip. “He’s not like this.”

“I bring the worst out in people. It’s a natural talent.” He grinned wryly under his hands.

“Don’t make a joke out of this, Connor. What would you tell those kids on the street, the ones you look after, if someone did something like this to them?” Her hand moved the towel over his gore splattered neck.

Connor averted his gaze, and lied to make her hate him like he deserved. “I threw the first punch, Dawn.”

“Fool.” Getting up, Dawn tossed the bloody towel into the sink. “Nothing looks like you need me to get Willow to patch you up.” Her eyes flicked to the bed. “That mattress’s not even denting in. It’s that hard? I know this room hasn’t been used in years.”

“Like sleeping on cement,” Connor confirmed. “I think the mildewy couch in my squat was more comfortable.” He took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Why are you doing this Dawn? You don’t have to.

“I know,” she said, her eyes warming him. “You could use a friend. I know what it’s like, Connor. I was woven into everyone’s memories. I was created out of energy and a little blast of Summers’ DNA. I’m a little odd, I guess, and I know how it feels to be an outsider. Not as much as you but enough. And I know my sister isn’t making it easy on you. I’m not excusing her for blaming you for stealing but she’s not only dealing with the demoness and murderous Slayers but also trying to wrap her head around your very existence.”

“And I’m very difficult in my own right.” He sighed, his jaw aching from the effort of holding a conversation. “I understand what you’re saying. I’m trying to be as good as I can be but...”

“You’re dealing with all those things, too, plus an addiction.” Dawn smiled gently. “So that’s why I figured you needed to know there was someone in your corner.”

He smiled, not daring to really believe it. “I appreciate it.”

“One last thing then I’ll go.” Dawn pulled two candy bars out of her pocket. “Reese’s Cups and Peppermint Patties, thought you might like real candy after that high protein stuff.”

“Thank you, yes.” Connor took the treasures and put them on the dresser, and then turned toward the bathroom. “Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Try to have a good night, Connor.” She let herself out.

Connor showered before he gratefully slipped between the scratchy sheets of his borrowed bed. Ratter got on the bed with him. He stroked his cat absently. At least her love was unconditional. His jaw hurt too much to make much headway on the jerky so he drank the protein drink, and then treated himself to the sugar and crashed in spite of it into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	19. Too close to home

Chapter Nineteen

_I can’t take this. I come unglued_  
I might breakdown in front of you  
necessary to medicate  
I’m not sleeping, can’t stay awake  
 **Pressure - Staind**

Connor didn’t want to get out of his old, hard bed. He had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be a good day, though how it could be worse than yesterday, he didn’t want to know. His face still bore heavy bruising and his eyelids felt like they had been cast in iron. The morning heroin took the edge off his worry and pain. The hotel was empty by the time he managed to get himself together. Not even Spike or Wesley were around. 

Connor assumed they all were at Wolfram and Hart or the school. The hotel’s quietness unsettled him. He couldn’t stay there alone. It brought back too many horrible memories. Connor headed for Anne’s to see his friends and to help out but that wasn’t his smartest move. All his life he had been nonchalant about any bruises or cuts he got. He wore them as badges of honor on Quor-Toth. Anne, however, wasn’t impressed. His kids saw them as reminders of their own abuse, and he should have known that. He lied and told Tin Man and Darts that his injuries came from him getting into it with his drug dealer. They believed him but it still made him feel like an ass for subjecting them to his drama. They had enough of their own.

At least they were doing well at Anne’s, or at least Tin Man was. Connor knew Darts wanted out of the house and back on the streets. Nothing he or Anne said would make a difference in the long run. He knew she was lost but Tin Man stood a chance. Connor just didn’t know how best to help the boy.

When Connor got home, he saw the answering machine flashing. He knew it was none of his business but he was bored and before he resigned himself to the lonely research, he wanted something mildly stimulating.

“Mom, Dad,” Joshua’s voice came out of the machine, thin and a little afraid. “I called work and school but you aren’t around. Vonna’s house is locked, and I can’t get in. Can someone come get me?”

Relieved that he had acted on his impulse to check the machine, Connor made his own calls and didn’t have any luck getting more than Fred and Gunn’s voice mail saying they were in meetings. He was glad he’d taken an interest in Joshua and knew that his school wasn’t far away. Connor hated the idea of the kid being alone and unable to get to safety. He’d worry about that even without the demoness stalking them. There was no way he’d let Joshua just stay out there alone.

Connor sprinted to the school. He had run more in the last few days than he had in years. It felt good to stretch, even the pain from the demoness’s attack wasn’t so bad. Connor slowed as he neared the school. He looked suspicious enough as it was with his swollen bruised face. He sniffed the air, tentatively trying to find Joshua’s scent. It didn’t take long to find the boy at the conveniently placed Dairy Queen. The boy looked at him curiously. Joshua’s smile was hesitant when he considered the damage he saw on Connor’s face.

“Why are you here, Connor? Did Dad send you?” Josh asked, looking around to see if his parents were with Connor.

 

“Something like that. What’s up, Kiddo? Any idea where Vonna is?” Connor asked as Joshua came his way with a milkshake in hand.

“No, and she’s always there. We have to be sure she’s okay,” Josh said, earnestly.

Connor didn’t really want to expose Josh to anything dangerous if something had happened to Vonna but a kid like him on his own in a fast food joint was in just as much danger. “Okay. Where does she live?”

Josh tossed out his empty milkshake and slipped a hand into Connor’s. Josh led him two blocks down a side street. Joshua pointed at a small, well kept home. Connor stopped Josh at the edge of the sidewalk. He took a deep breath, trying to catch the scent of the demoness. He thought maybe he did. 

Connor ran up onto the porch, realizing speed would be important now, if that creature were near. Blood scent wafted out from under the door. He glanced in an open window. What was left of Vonna was spread all over the living room floor. Connor took a steeling breath, tried to blot off any emotions on his face, and went over to Joshua. “We’re going back home.”

Joshua’s dark eyes went wide. “Is something wrong with Vonna?”

“I can’t tell, and we don’t want to break in. That would be wrong,” Connor lied, squatting down. “Want to run really fast back home?”

“Why?”

“For fun. I know you’re a big kid but have you ever wanted to go as fast a vampire?”

Josh’s eyes lit up. “Angel used to give me horseback rides. He’s so fast.”

“Let’s see if I’m faster. Climb on,” Connor said. He had no idea how close the demoness was. She could be slaughtering everyone in the Dairy Queen by now. The important thing was she was after the boy, and he had to get Joshua out of here fast and endanger as few people as possible.

As soon as Joshua’s hands and feet were wrapped around him, Connor took off. It wasn’t as easy as he thought it might be. He was so weak. It was shameful how slow he was going. His wounded leg began throbbing.

Joshua didn’t seem to mind, laughing as Connor raced along. He let Josh down once the Hyperion was in sight. Connor locked the door behind them, and then made another call to Gunn. “There you are,” Connor said, stepping into the other room so Joshua couldn’t overhear him.

“We just got out of our meetings. What’s wrong? I was just about to head over to Vonna’s,” Gunn said.

“Don’t. I have your son here. He’s safe. He doesn’t know but I looked inside. Something pulled Vonna apart,” Connor said, softly.

“Son of a bitch!” Gunn roared. “Did you see the bitch? It was her, right? Did she see you?”

“Smelled her but didn’t see her. She hadn’t managed to track Josh to the Dairy Queen by the time I found him there. We’re back at the Hyperion, and Josh will be safe here. I’ll stay with him. I’ve beaten her before. I won’t let anything happen to him,” Connor promised, wishing he felt as sure as he sounded.

“Thanks. I’ll get the others.” Relief crackled through Gunn’s reply.

“Make sure you take Buffy or Faith,” Connor said. “That demoness is amazingly strong.”

“I’ll bring a gun,” Gunn growled. 

“That might be a good idea.” Connor hung up and went to look for Joshua. He found him in front of the TV already playing video games. “I know you had a milk shake but do you want another snack?” Connor asked, trying to figure out what to do with Josh. He was going to let Gunn and Fred tell Josh about Vonna.

“Sure,” Josh said, eagerly. “Was that my dad on the phone?”

“Yes, I’m betting either him or your mom will be home soon and so I don’t get yelled at for letting you play games, let’s get your homework done.”

“Awww,” Joshua whined, brandishing the controller. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, but I’ll play a game with you when you’re done, how’s that?” Connor offered.

Joshua mulled this over. “Okay I guess. You’ll really play?”

“I will.” That seemed like a small concession to Connor but to Josh it appeared to be gold. “Let’s go into the dining room and you can get to work.”

“Snack first,” Joshua said, setting aside his game. He picked up his tossed-aside back pack and headed for the kitchen.

“What would you like to eat?” Connor asked, wondering what one fed a kid.

“I’ll get it.” Joshua opened a cabinet and pulled out a box of Little Debbie’s Starcrunches.

“Are you allowed to eat that much sugar?” Connor gave Joshua a suspicious look.

“It’s cool. Want one?” Joshua jiggled the plastic wrapped treat.

“Caramel and chocolate? Two of my favorite things, you bet. Thanks.” Connor caught the treat when Josh tossed it, and then herded him into the dining room. He left Josh there and went to get a tome off the to-be-read pile in the library. Josh eyed the heavy book when Connor came back. “You do your homework, I’ll do mine.” He smiled.

“Can you check mine when I’m done?” Josh asked, a put upon expression on his face now that he was gazing directly into the ugly maw of homework.

“Of course. If you get stuck, I’ll do my best to help.”

“Can I do spelling last? It sucks.” Joshua wrinkled his nose.

Connor managed a laugh. “You can do spelling last.”

Connor went through his book while Joshua worked on his problems. Connor couldn’t help wonder how things were going at Vonna’s. He wished someone would call him. He hated not knowing what was going on. And the waiting and worrying that the demoness would find the Hyperion didn’t help. Connor didn’t get any of his own reading done.

He was just beginning to give Josh a hand with the last of the math, some of the more complicated multiplication tables, when someone came in. Fred called her son’s name, panic in her voice.

“In the dining room, Mom!”

Fred raced in with Xander, Cordy and Angel behind her. Connor assumed Angel knew he was useless to investigating Vonna’s death in the daylight and had come with them to be sure nothing happened in his home. 

“Baby, are you okay?” Fred grabbed her son’s shoulders, rotating him side to side as if checking for damage.

“I’m fine, Mom.” He tried to pull away, embarrassed by the attention. “But I don’t know where Vonna went. It was a little scary but Connor came and got me.”

“Daddy went to see what happened to Vonna.” Fred kissed his head, and then her eyes met Connor’s and hardened. “What do you think you’re doing with him?”

“Helping him with his homework.” Connor was surprised Fred was still angry with him.

“We almost finished it all,” Josh said, proudly waving a hand at the pile of papers on the table.

“All?” Fred looked surprised. 

“Almost. Connor wouldn’t let me play until after it was all done but he’s gonna play a game when I am.” Josh bounced with excitement.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Fred shook her head vehemently.

“But Mom!” Joshua clamped his arms over his chest.

“Don’t argue with me. Why don’t you go in the other room, Joshua, and I’ll be in in a minute to check on your homework.”

“Connor already did except for the math.” Joshua jutted out his chin.

“Joshua!” Fred’s voice cowed her son. He swept his books up and stomped out. She whipped around to face Connor. “I don’t want you around my son!”

“I was only trying to help,” he protested, stunned.

She stabbed a finger at him. “Do I have to repeat myself?”

Connor gritted his teeth, making pain flare in his battered face. “No, but you might want to stop and think what would have happened if I hadn’t gone to bring him home.”

“Connor has a point, Fred,” Angel said quietly, taking a step closer to his son.

“Angel, you’re the last person I’d take advice from on how to raise and protect a son,” Fred snapped stalking out of the room.

“Maybe you should just leave all of us alone,” Xander said, putting an arm around Cordelia and led her out of the room.

Connor looked at Angel, tears standing in his eyes. “I’m not sure what I did wrong.”

Angel simply shook his head, and then put his arms around him. Connor stood stiffly, unable to return the embrace at first. Finally, Connor gave in and rested his cheek against Angel’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go,” Connor murmured.

“Please, not yet.” Angel patted Connor’s back. “Give it time.”

Connor shook his head. “I’m too much trouble.”

“You did the right thing, Connor. You probably saved Joshua’s life and when Fred calms down from that near miss, she’ll realize it and stop being the overprotective mom,” Angel replied.

“I’ll just go for a little while, let things settle. I need to clear my head. I’ll walk around, or something, maybe I’ll go back to Anne’s and help out,” he lied knowing he couldn’t go there.

“Connor...” Angel seemed to sag. “Maybe that would be good. Please, come home tonight.”

Connor touched a bruise on his cheek. “Don’t worry. I won’t be going back to work, not looking like this. Probably shouldn’t tell you that. You’ll beat me every day just to be sure of it.’

Angel looked hurt but he just nodded. “I’m sorry I hit you, Connor.”

“It hurt less than what just happened.” Connor grimaced. “I’ll call back to see what’s going on with Vonna’s place as if I don’t know already.”

“Okay.”

Connor simply left without another word. He didn’t go to Anne’s. He went to Griffith Park and sat out in the sun, baking for a while. He felt perverse. He never felt at home in the sun but he was content to sit near a beautiful bed of flowers and think of nothing. Only nothing wasn’t easy to achieve. He found his head so full of his family that he gained no peace. There was a happiness in the knowledge that there was someone in the world who honestly cared about him though.

Even as his face throbbed from the beating he had taken, Connor knew there hadn’t been hate behind his father’s fists, just fear and desperation. At least Angel didn’t find him so disgusting that when he did something that anyone else would cheer, they turned around and denigrated him. By the time he headed out of the park, sun burnt, and back to his usual hang outs down town, it was dark, and he was so conflicted that even getting high to forget didn’t sound all that appealing. For the first time ever, he didn’t trust the drugs to numb him.

Connor was still looking for the drugs though because it was the only thing he knew to do. He’d get sick besides. He was still angry that his usual source was gone. He didn’t trust the sources he was going to now. At least he had been doing drugs long enough to know legitimate sources from police traps.

To that end, he sought out Victory. It wasn’t often he found a truly hard core female drug slinger but Victory broke through any barriers set in front of her. Connor found her to be as frightening as anyone could be. She was in front of one of her usual hang outs, near a row of clubs upscale enough for her to get a bite of the yuppie drug trade, standing as proud as an Ethiopian princess as she guarded her patch. She wasn’t thrilled to see his beaten face. Shifting the tri-toned gold book bag around at her feet, knowing what he’d want from it, she gave him a hard stare.

“Can’t have you around here looking like that, Angelboy.” She sniffed at him, flipping back the long snaky coils of raspberry dyed hair.

“Just give me two dime bags and I’ll be out of your way, Victory.” He held out the money.

Before she could take it, a flashlight lit them up. Victory took off without her pack. She got only a few steps when a suited man stopped her with an expert grab and take down. Connor didn’t bother trying. This was all he needed, a drug arrest. Well, technically he didn’t have any drugs or paraphernalia on him. The best they could do was intent to buy a controlled substance but still he didn’t want to have to call his father.

Connor shielded his eyes against the light and when it dropped down, Connor laughed bitterly. “Hey, Victory, if it’s any consolation, these guys are homicide, not vice.”

“Shut your hole, Angelboy. Lemme go! I didn’t do nothing!” Victory argued, thrashing under her captor’s hands.

“What do you want, Kate?” Connor asked.

“You.” Her eyes were tight slits.

“What you do, Angelboy?” Victory hooted at him, still trying to wiggle free. “You got your man. Let me go.”

“We might not be vice but we can’t just ignore what’s in that bag you left behind,” Kate’s partner said, nodding towards it.

“Thanks for jamming me up, Angelboy,” Victory snarled, trying to kick him even though she was several yards away.

“We need to talk. Gideon, can you handle...Victory, is it?” Kate smirked.

Gideon smirked back. “I think she’s starting to like me.”

She glared, tossing back her long hair. “You wish, limp dick.”

“She’s a lovely girl,” Gideon said, fishing for his handcuffs.

Kate took Connor’s arm, pulling him side. “Back to the risky business?”

“Not really. Just needed a little taste,” Connor replied. “What do you need, Kate?”

“I want to talk to you about this afternoon,” she said. “Did you go inside Vonna’s house?”

Connor shook his head. “Peeked in the window. Didn’t touch anything.”

“Holy hell!” Gideon cried, before Kate could continue her questioning.

Connor and Kate whipped back around, Kate’s gun coming up. The demoness had found them yet again. Kate fired off a round just as the creature was gutting Victory. Gideon had fallen, moaning but he was still alive. The demoness screamed but it sounded more like rage than pain.

“Gideon! Move!” Kate screamed.

Connor darted in and grabbed Victory’s book bag. He snagged baggies containing brown powder and slammed them into the demoness’s face. They popped open and he turned away from the heroin cloud. She reared back, gagging, gasping. Connor tried a kick to her head. He managed to clip her chin but his body was too sore and stiff to pull it off well. The demoness started to run. Connor ran after her but quickly came to regret all the running he had done with Joshua. His injured leg gave way, and he stumbled. He pushed back up but she was back on him, her claws scissoring his way. Kate’s gun barked and the demoness twisted away once more.

“Gid! Connor! Get in the car!” Kate ordered, laying down more suppression fire.

“What the hell is happening, Kate?” Gideon asked, momentarily frozen.

“She’s running, Kate. I don’t think I can follow.” Connor pointed to his leg, which had started bleeding from the wounds from the night before.

“She’s still tracking you, Connor,” Kate said, trying to get another shot off and failing. “Guess she didn’t like being shot and drugged.”

“What the hell?” Gideon shook so hard he practically fell against the car.

“Know that weird stuff I have a reputation for, Gid? Well, now you know it’s for real.” A sardonic look flicked over her face.

“You shot that thing, and it didn’t go down,” Gideon moaned.

“I hit it with enough Mexican Brown to put it in a coma, but I barely fazed her,” Connor said, stunned by that but he wasn’t sure why he thought demons would have human weaknesses.

“Gid, can you hold it together? We have to act like something human killed Victory.” Kate pointed to where the drug dealer lay in bloody hunks.

Gideon tried to pick himself up from where he leaned on the car but failed. “Give me a minute.”

“Kate, we’d better call Angel and the rest. They need to know what happened. They may be able to track her from here,” Connor made a face. “We ought to prove we’re as good as tracking as she is. This is getting ridiculous. The only thing that’s keep her from finding home is...well you know,” he said, referring to the spells. Kate nodded and started to phone Angel.

“This can’t be happening,” Gideon spat, running a hand over his bald head.

“Gid! Pull it together. It happened. Deal,” Kate snapped.

Connor ignored the frightened cop, taking advantage of all the distractions. He raided Victory’s book bag, hating himself as he did so. He took all the China White she had. 

“I saw that,” Kate hissed in his ear. “You get caught with that much...”

“I know. Serious jail time. I won’t get caught unless you plan on turning me in. This will mean I don’t have to work. And then maybe Angel won’t hit me and everyone won’t get angry at us or maybe they won’t think I’m robbing them blind when I’m not.” Connor shook his head. “I know I’m rationalizing. You don’t have to tell me. But this is what I am now, Kate. Work your crime scene. I’ll stay long enough for the others to get here, as if I’m actually some kind of protection.” Connor laughed bitterly, just wanting to slink off and fill his veins with some of the white powder. It had been too long. “Just don’t tell Angel about this.”

Kate gave him a fish-eyed look and went back to help her partner. Connor half hoped for the demoness to come back so he could at least try to acquit himself better. It didn’t take long for Buffy and Faith to arrive, having been closer to the scene than Angel. He didn’t wait for his father to arrive. Connor just related what had happened to the Slayers and slunk off for the Hyperion, hoping to just disappear into a syringe.


	20. Breaking point

Chapter Twenty

_I hurt myself today_  
To see if I still feel   
I focus on the pain   
The only thing that’s real   
The needle tears a hole  
The old familiar sting   
Try to kill it all away   
But I remember everything  
 **Hurt - Johnny Cash**

 

Connor avoided everyone else until late afternoon when they started arriving back from work. He didn’t want to deal with anyone. Would they wonder if he’d gone out looking for drugs again or talk about his latest fight with Angel or why he was so damn useless to them all? Saving Josh from getting eaten had made no impact on these people. Why should Connor expect that anything else he’d do would make them feel any differently towards him? He ran across Buffy first. Her face seemed tired, her lips pinched, her eyes hard. He felt sorry for her. “Is something wrong? Anything I can do?”

“No.” Her voice was as sharp as glass, and then she softened some. “Sorry. It’s not your fault, Connor. Leda tried to escape today, and she nearly made it.”

Connor rocked back at that. He should have seen something like that coming, maybe they all should have, but he could see it had hit Buffy like a fist. “Oh, sorry. Has she started with her counselors yet?”

Buffy nodded. “For all the good it’s doing.” She sounded every bit as weary as she looked.

“It takes time. There are a lot of back sliding and going sideways,” Connor said, hesitantly. Who was he trying to convince, himself or her?

“Guess you’d know.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her lips pulling down into a frown. “Did that sound uber bitchy?”

“Yeah, but you’ve been under a lot of stress so I’ll look past it,” Connor said, realizing there was no point in aggravating her. Out of all of them, he wanted Buffy at least to not hate him for Angel’s sake and maybe even Dawn’s. Buffy’s sister seemed to like him still and he didn’t want her catching hell on his behalf. Buffy had no reasons to hate him - what he had done to Angel aside - so maybe things weren’t lost with her.

“Thanks.” She sighed, running a hand through her blond hair. Buffy looked askance at him. “I’d avoid the others. Fred and Gunn are still on a warpath about their friend getting killed.”

Connor glowered. “That’s not my fault.”

“I guess you used to be a better fighter,” Buffy said uneasily, not meeting his eyes.

“Oh, so it is my fault the demon’s not dead,” Connor said tightly. He couldn’t believe this. It really wasn’t his fault. He tried his best. Maybe he wasn’t the man he used to be and, okay, maybe that was his fault, but he had tried. He could have died, and he still tried. Didn’t that count?

“They’re just blowing off steam,” Buffy said placatingly. 

“No, it’s always been like this. I was always the one blamed for everything. Sometimes with reason, sometimes not,” Connor said, sounding very small and beaten. “You try to kill one vampire, and you’re never forgiven.”

“You tried to kill your _father_ and well, you didn’t kill him, did you? You skipped right over that to torture,” Buffy reminded him, her voice edged slightly but her eyes didn’t harden at least.

Connor’s shoulders slumped. “I’m Angelus’ son. What do people expect of me?”

“For you to embrace the human side of your nature,” Buffy volleyed back, looking more concerned for him than angry.

Connor spread his hands. “You got me there. I have my excuses and reasons but it comes down to I can’t change what happened and either I’m forgiven or not. I know where most people come down on it. I think maybe Dad’s forgiven me. He said he did but he never acted like it until the end.”

Buffy touched his arm lightly, her face softening some. “Have you ever talked to him about that?” 

“We don’t talk much, maybe we should,” Connor said as he entered the library where the crew had gathered. Connor scanned the crowd to see what he was up against. Angel was walled into a chair by books. Wesley, Spike and Giles ringed around a table also filled with books. Xander and Cordy were on one love seat, Fred and Gunn on the other. Dawn and Willow were absent. Faith was loading up on more books from the shelves. Maybe he should have heeded Buffy’s advice and just avoided all of this.

“What’s there to talk about?” Fred asked coolly, looking up from her work.

“Mostly I was talking about my dad and myself and the whole idea of forgiveness,” Connor said, knowing it was pointless to even bother. He could tell by the frost in the air.

“You think you deserve it?” Fred couldn’t hide her disbelief.

“Maybe.” Connor flopped down on the floor next to the bookshelves.

“Good luck with that. This is not a forgiving crew,” Spike said, glaring at Xander who curled his lip at him.

“Tell me about it,” Faith said, settling some books in front of the Watchers. “I’m not sure I’ve been forgiven but maybe there are some things that can’t be. But Angel is probably the most forgiving guy I know. Wes isn’t so bad himself.” Faith tossed a fond glance over at the Watcher.

“Actually, I’ve noticed that, Faith,” Connor said, purposely not looking at his father. He could feel Angel’s eyes on him. “And Angel’s the one person who shouldn’t forgive me.”

“I have though, Connor,” Angel said softly, moving the stack of books so he could get up. “You just didn’t understand what you were doing.”

“You so sure about that, Angel? He knew enough to take care of you and fake being our friend for the whole summer,” Fred spat, glaring over at Connor and the young man winced. Why were some people in this group allowed to live things down and others not Connor wondered not for the first time.

“Sounds like the thing to do when you come from demon parents,” Xander put in and Cordy looked at him sharply.

“I’m warning you now, Xander, this isn’t your fight so stay out of it,” Angel snapped, jabbing a finger at Xander. To his credit, Xander quieted even if he did settle into an unhappy sulk.

“You know, if I had attacked any other vampire, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Connor said, shifting on the floor where he sat. His blue eyes finally met them all, defiant now.

“He has a point,” Spike put in, flipping through his book as he feigned disinterest.

“But it wasn’t any other vampire. It was your father,” Buffy said, repeating her mantra from when she and Connor had been alone. “That does make it hard.”

“If you thought I had a hand in hurting Angel, you weren’t wrong. But you have to remember, I thought Angel killed Holtz,” Connor said softly.

“And Angel told you he didn’t,” Fred argued, her fingers tightening around the edges of her book.

“And my whole life I was told how Angelus would lie to me and make me care about him. I believed Holtz in that whatever I was seeing was just a pleasing lie,” Connor explained. 

“I should have known,” Angel mumbled, misery reflecting in his eyes. He slumped back.

“And we told you that you could trust Angel,” Gunn seemed determined to counter anything Connor said. 

“I grew up believing he was an evil monster. You have to cut me a little slack,” Connor said, already wearying of the fight. He wasn’t going to win. He knew that. He slumped against the bookcase he was sitting in front of.

“You’ve always been full of excuses,” Fred replied, tossing her research book down on the table in disgust.

“Oh, give me a break.” Connor felt what little calm he had snap. “Haven’t you ever heard of prejudice? Come on, Fred, you’re in a mixed race marriage with a biracial kid. You can’t tell me no one’s ever said something prejudiced to you. Ever wonder how they got that way? Chances are their parents taught them that hate, and it’s not something you can get over with a snap of your fingers.”

“I know this isn’t my fight any more than it’s Xander’s but Connor makes a great deal of sense. You don’t just forget ingrained prejudices easily,” Giles said, looking over the rim of his glasses. He had kept silent through all the drama until now but Connor realized Giles had been listening intently.

“I guess what you say makes sense. I mean that spell to restore Cordy’s memory, it shoved all of Angel’s old prejudices back to front, calling me a slave and picking on the English,” Gunn said, and Connor was grateful that at least he was making headway with one of them. He didn’t want to cause Angel any more pain and the mere fact he upset Angel’s friends so much was a bad thing.

“Sorry. In my teenaged years that just was the way things were,” Angel said sheepishly. “And well, things between the English and the Irish haven’t improved much in the intervening years.”

“And that’s my point. You wanted me to accomplish in days what humanity has taken centuries to do,” Connor said, gesturing at his father for emphasis. “I know that isn’t a perfect analogy and the point is, I did try to make the leap.”

“When?” Fred leaned against Gunn, looking at Connor as hostilely as she had the time she wielded the Taser on him.

“I tried to. I came back and worked with you to beat the Beast and save Angel, didn’t I?” Connor’s frustration curled through his words like smoke.

“You tried to kill Angel during that,” Gunn reminded him.

The room went silent for a moment, eyes turning to Connor. Buffy’s face went dead white, her eyes hardening. Something indescribable passed over Xander’s face while Faith’s lip curled with disgust.

Spike muttered, “Damn, it didn’t work.”

“He asked me to!” Connor raged, propelling himself off the floor to stalk around the library. He felt as caged as a tiger.

“Oh, like he would,” Fred batted back.

“I did,” Angel broke in gently and all eyes snapped over to him in shock. “I’m sorry, Connor. I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t fair to put that on your shoulders or at least I should have let everyone know that it was my wishes, not yours. I should have known how it would look. That was terribly short-sighted of me,” Angel said lowly.

“One of many short-sighted moments for all of us. You could have told me what you suspected about Cordelia.” Connor’s gaze cut over to the woman in question.

Cordy’s lips pursed, her eyes narrowing. “What about me?”

“Nothing.” Connor shook his head. 

“Cordy, you and I have that school stuff to get to,” Xander said, sensing that this was something that she didn’t need to hear. “For the party. This talk doesn’t really have anything to do with us.”

“I did hear my name.” Cordelia crossed her arms, glaring at them all.

“Cordelia,” Angel said gently. Crossing over to her, he rested a hand on her shoulder. “Xander’s right. This is mostly between my son and me, Fred and Gunn.”

“Fine.” She jumped to her feet, shooting a death glare at him. “But I know you’re just getting rid of me.”

“Sorry, Cordelia,” Connor said softly.

She regarded him closely. “Thank you,” she said, and then let Xander lead her off.

“You know, they could use some help with the party,” Faith said, grabbing Wes and yanked him toward the door. She snagged Spike on the way. He protested the treatment, far too interested in the drama for his own good. Giles went along without any prompting.

Connor sagged into a chair. “I have to know, Angel, why didn’t you ever let me in on the sting to prove Cordelia was behind what was going wrong? You told everyone but me. So much could have been different.” He rubbed a hand over his stinging eyes, getting a quick rein on his emotions. All would have been different if he hadn’t thought Cordelia was about to be murdered. Maybe Jasmine could have died still born. Maybe Cordelia wouldn’t be as she was today. Maybe he wouldn’t have ended up like this. Maybe they all wouldn’t have such misery in their lives.

“He knew better than to trust you,” Fred said, flinging her long hair back.

“It’s obvious that he didn’t but he didn’t need to trust me. All he had to do was keep me with him or with one of you and say we were looking for the demon and not tell me anything more. I would have believed that and seen with my own eyes what was happening. How hard would that have been? Instead, you let me think you were trying to kill Cordelia, and she made sure that I believed it was because of us.” Connor trembled hard, nearly jerking out of the chair. “I didn’t even believe my mother when she came to warn me.”

“What are you talking about?” Buffy asked. She had wisely tried to hang back from the conversation, unsure really what she added to it.

“A woman came to me, petite, blonde, pretty, said she was my mother and for a while, I believed her.” Connor tapped his chest. “I felt it then Cordelia interfered and then…she convinced me that you all hated and feared me so much that you used a spell to impersonate my dead mother…after that things get kinda hazy. I’m not sure if that’s your spell, Angel, or my own screwed up brain. I think those are things I can’t live with remembering clearly.” Connor quaked again.

“Why would you have believed Cordy about that?” Gunn asked, honestly curious.

“Because none of you were honest with me. You automatically assumed I was evil before I was even born,” Connor said, trying to hold back the sudden swell of pain. “You wanted to kill me in the womb.”

“Cordelia told you that?” Angel said so mournfully that it hurt Connor to hear it. He came over to Connor’s chair. “Connor, we had no idea what you would be. We didn’t think that two vampires could create anything good but once we saw the ultrasound and Darla told me about feeling your soul, we didn’t want to hurt you. Did Cordy tell you that, too?

Connor glanced away, cursing under his breath. “No, she made sure to tell me I made Darla invincible. I assumed that was the only reason I was born.”

Angel patted Connor’s shoulder. “That isn’t true.”

Connor shrugged. “Maybe not but how was I to know? No one ever made me feel wanted…well, just a little that summer. I know you and Fred tried, Gunn, but even then I never thought you were comfortable with me.” He tugged at his hair. “You didn’t even know Cordy had gone evil but you automatically assumed that the baby would be evil because of me.”

“We weren’t wrong,” Fred reminded him, her voice so shrill it was like a dentist drill hitting an unanesthetized tooth.

“Maybe not, but at least you could apologize for acting like I was the one who’s a threat to Josh. But you won’t. Truth is, you never liked me much.” Connor knew that wasn’t true. For a time, Fred had seemed to like him a little but he was too angry to acknowledge that at the moment. “Even when you and Gunn were looking out for me, you were afraid. Never once did you even think maybe I was afraid, too,” Connor said, a sudden fragility entering his voice. He felt ashamed of that weakness but maybe they needed to see it.

“Of what?” Gunn asked. “You already knew what demon had gotten hold of Angel. You weren’t worried about it like we were. I suppose your only fear was us finding out.”

“I was trapped in a world I didn’t know with people who purposely took me out of the way so Angel could do whatever he wanted to the only father I had ever known. Did you forget I overheard you two talking? Neither of you had a problem with Angel killing Holtz.” Connor stabbed a finger at them, that buried betrayal raising its ugly head. He felt the pain as fresh as if someone had just drawn a claw across his flesh. “You thought Holtz deserved it. Not many people deserve killing. Maybe he did but I didn’t think so. He was my father in most of the ways that count. How do you think I felt being stuck in a strange world with nothing but the two people who didn’t care if Angelus killed my father, who helped arrange my father’s murder? You two terrified me. I was afraid that you’d turn on me next for not being what Angel wanted me to be.” No one said anything, the room so quiet it was impossible to believe it had as many people as it did stuffed into it. 

“I never thought of it that way,” Gunn said, shifting uncomfortably. His gaze canted towards his wife but she didn’t mellow the way he had.

“But we didn’t do anything to you,” Fred said, shoving up her glasses irritably.

“No, you took good care of me, and I started to trust you. I appreciated it even if I never said so but that didn’t change how I felt,” Connor said, softly. He had been grateful enough for how they helped him adjust. Seeing Fred’s disbelief, he tossed up his hands. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m here. I’m accomplishing nothing.” He moved toward the door.

“Connor, please,” Angel started but Connor flung up a hand to silence him and was gone before Angel could continue his thought. 

Connor didn’t know why he hurt so much but he did. He should have expected it. He thought maybe it would be different now, so many years later, but even Angel didn’t really apologize. Oh, he hadn’t denied his mistakes but he still didn’t apologize for them. Connor hadn’t expected him to. Maybe he should have been the first to offer an apology since he owed many as well. Too late now. He was just so tired of life in general. He wanted to rest, to simply shut his eyes and not open them again.

Tossing himself on his borrowed bed, Connor went limp. Ratter came over to see him. He scratched the cat’s head. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you, baby.” Connor hunted up some paper and started to write.

X X X

“Guess I’m glad I missed most of the drama,” Dawn said, heading for her second story bedroom with Buffy behind her.

“I feel so sorry for Angel,” Buffy said wearily. “It hurts to see him aching for his son. I wish I knew what to do to help.” She rubbed her arms vigorously.

“Sounds like the real problem is in the past. I’m not sure you can help,” Dawn said, bending down to scoop up some folded paper leaning against her bedroom door. “Hmm, Connor left me a letter.”

“What for?” Buffy peered over Dawn’s shoulder. “I guess he does actually like you.” She nudged Dawn with an elbow.

Dawn bobbed her head. “He trusts me, says so right here.” She tapped the letter. “Thanks me for being nice to him and asks me to watch his cat.”

Buffy’s nose wrinkled. “What’s that all about?”

Dawn rolled her shoulders. “I’m not sure.”

“Sounds almost like goodbye,” Buffy mused, and then the sisters exchanged horrified glances.

“If he were just leaving, he’d take the cat, right?” Dawn said, already knowing the answer.

They tore through the hotel, calling Connor’s name. His room was empty so Dawn went up to check Buffy and Angel’s penthouse while Buffy went looking for Angel. Willow popped out of her apartment, startling the Slayer. 

“What’s wrong, Buffy?” 

“Maybe nothing but Connor left Dawn a very ominous note. I think he might have hurt himself,” Buffy said tightly. Loping towards the railing, she leapt over it.

Willow darted back into her apartment and grabbed her medical bag before thundering down the steps. She nearly collided with Angel and Buffy as they came out of the library. “Did you find him?” she asked.

“No. Maybe I’m just overreacting,” Buffy said, her face pale. “The letter didn’t say anything bad.”

Angel shook his head, fear etching into his broad features. “Connor loves his grand gestures.”

“Then it’s bad,” Buffy muttered, skidding to a stop near the courtyard doors. She spied a shadow under one of the shade trees. “There!” She didn’t have to say more. It didn’t look good, not unless Connor decided to take a nap under a eucalyptus tree in the full afternoon sun, and she couldn’t imagine that. Angel muscled her aside, racing through the doors. “No! Angel, it’s daylight!”

Angel didn’t stop. Smoke curled up from his head and shoulders, and Buffy lunged after him. He snared Connor’s arm before she caught Angel’s but she was more than capable of dragging them both into the shade of the building. Angel’s knees smacked hard into the ground as he slumped over Connor. The band he’d used to help shoot up dangled loosely in his fingers, and Buffy could see the hypodermic lying in the grass. 

“He’s not breathing,” Angel said, his voice so tight Buffy could barely hear him.

While she wondered if CPR would work for someone who had poisoned himself to death, Buffy dodged Willow who darted forward with her bag in hand. Willow reached for Connor but Angel batted her hand away, nothing but raw grief in his eyes.

“Let me help, Angel,” Willow snapped, opening her bag. She withdrew a syringe and a vial of liquid. “Narcan, this reverses the effects of heroin. I can bring him back.”

Angel let her punch in the medicine and Connor’s body shuddered. He dragged in a ragged breath. He muttered something Buffy couldn’t hear before shutting his eyes again. Angel folded him to his chest, rocking his son. Silent tears wended down Angel’s sun-pocked face.

Willow looked up at the Slayer. “Call 911. He’s back but he’s not out of the woods.” 

Buffy dialed, thinking they had missed a chance this afternoon to stop this. If Connor didn’t make it, she didn’t think Angel would ever forgive himself.


	21. Hospital

Chapter Twenty-One

_While I was busy waging wars on myself_  
you were trying to stop the fight  
You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate…   
Hate me today  
Hate me tomorrow   
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you   
**Hate Me- Blue October**

Buffy yawned quietly, shifting on the uncomfortable hospital chair. She had lost track of the hours that had gone by since Connor had been found dying in the courtyard. Finally, she and Willow had convinced Angel that it would be all right to have the television on softly. It wouldn’t bother Connor nor was it disrespectful to have it on. They also managed to convince Angel to get some rest in the shadows of the small room as it was nearly dawn.

There really wasn’t anything good on the TV but it served as a diversion while she kept vigil at Connor’s bed. The antiseptic smell was getting to her, and Buffy didn’t know how people worked in places like this. Weariness sucked at her bones but Angel wouldn’t let anyone else into the room, except for Willow and the nurses, as if he blamed everyone for what had happened. Even Willow’s assurances that Connor would be all right didn’t appease Angel. 

A soft moan captured her attention followed by a metallic clank, the sound of restraints on the metal frame. Once Willow had admitted Connor as a suicide attempt, the cuffs had gone on, in spite of Angel’s protests. Buffy fumbled for his hand and he squeezed it. “You’re cuffed to the bed, just rest easy,” Buffy whispered.

“Why?” he murmured, his voice a harsh whisper.

“Because you tried to kill yourself,” she said practically, finding it easier than she thought to explain the restraints.

He shook his head slightly, eyes still closed. “No…why save me?”

Buffy stared at him for a moment, shocked. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“I don’t matter,” Connor said, finally opening his eyes.

Buffy squeezed his hand, and then she pointed to where Angel drowsed in his shadow-veiled chair. “Do you think you don’t matter to him? If you didn’t matter to me and Dawn, would we have searched the hotel and managed to find you in time?”

Connor didn’t answer. A few tears tumbled down his hollow cheeks. Buffy undid the leather cuffs restraining him to the bed. He looked at her in shock. She shrugged. “It’s not like these could really hold you. They’re just mandatory. If a nurse comes in, she can yell at me.” Buffy surprised Connor by sliding her arms under him, dragging him forward. He folded up against her, huddled in her embrace.

“You can’t die,” she whispered, remembering telling his father something like this once. It felt like a hundred years ago. “It would hurt more people than you know.”

“Besides, Dad, who?” he murmured, bitterness underlying his words.

“How about those kids at Anne’s? They’d miss you. You’re important to them and to me and Dawn.” Hearing his soft sound of disbelief, she added. “Maybe I should say it as you’re becoming important to me. Would that be more believable? Things that matter to your father, matter to me.”

Connor sucked on his lower lip as he slipped out of her arms. He settled himself back against the thin-mattressed bed. “I can believe that.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve not been very easy on you or very accepting. It’s been too hard on me, I guess,” Buffy said honestly; a touch of shame pinked up her cheeks. “I want to do better.”

“Dad didn’t tell you. He probably thought he was protecting you.” Connor sighed, a long drawn out sound. “I know him. Likes to make decisions he thinks are best for you without asking.”

Buffy laughed lightly, resting a hand over Connor’s. “You know your father all too well.”

Connor made a sound between a laugh and a cry. “Better than he knows.”

“I’m sorry that we haven’t been better to you.” Buffy cast a glance over at Angel. “He hasn’t even had time to think that much about anything but the demoness.”

“That’s important.”

Buffy’s expression hardened. “So are you and we forgot that. And we’ve forgotten how to be forgiving.” She shook her head, her hair swaying. “It’s always been a weakness of ours.”

“I’m not any better,” Connor said, shifting uncomfortably on the hard bed, his pale blue gown pulling precariously. “Need to get me a nurse.”

“What’s wrong?” Can I help?” Buffy asked worriedly.

Connor smiled wryly. “Doubt you want to hold that.” He nodded to the bedside urinal. “And you probably should lock me back up so you can call the nurse.” 

“Oh yeah, good point.” Blushing faintly, Buffy closed the cuffs back over Connor’s slender wrists and hit the call button for the nurse. “I’ll wait outside.” Getting up, she went over and tapped Angel’s shoulder, dragging the groggy, half-awake vampire outside. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. He watched a nurse go into Connor’s room and his expression morphed into one of worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Buffy replied, placatingly. “Connor’s awake.”

“Then why did you bring me out here?” Angel turned to go back in.

Buffy grabbed hold, halting him. “Because I figured he’d rather pee in private.”

His eyebrows climbed. “Oh. I’m sure you’re right Buffy. I…” Angel faltered, and she put her arms around him, pulling him tight.

“He’s going to be all right, Angel.” She figured that was what he needed to hear the most. She just wished she knew if that were the truth or not.

“You don’t know that,” he said, his words muffled against her skin.

She let him go, running a hand over the hard angle of his jaw. “I do. We were having a nice talk. Well, I guess nice isn’t really the term for it but it was productive, I think. Don’t give up on him now. Connor needs you to hold him up, and I’ll be here to hold you up as needed.” Buffy smiled at him.

Angel kissed her, and she felt the love pouring out of him. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Buffy. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Before Buffy could respond, the nurse came out of the room and nodded to them. Buffy put a hand on Angel’s strong arm. “Go talk to him, Angel. I’ll wait here for a little while.”

Angel gave her a thankful smile and went into the room. It hurt more than he could tell anyone to see his son strapped down. Connor looked oddly at peace with that. He went and sat by Connor’s bed.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hey.” Angel pushed Connor’s bangs out of his eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Okay, all things considered. Tired,” Connor admitted, looking so fragile it made Angel’s heart ache.

Angel studied his big hands, trying to think off what to say. “Buffy said you two were talking.”

Connor nodded. “It was a good talk, really.”

“That’s what she said, too.” Hope gleamed in Angel’s eyes. “I want you to like her.”

“I do. She might even like me a little, even if I don’t make it easy,” Connor said ruefully.

Angel smiled and patted Connor’s shoulder. “You’ve never been one for the easy path. I think it’s a family trait.”

“Really? Spike said you were pretty lazy.” Connor grinned.

“Spike wants to be killed slowly.” Angel managed a weary grin but he was thrilled Connor could find something that made him smile.

Connor snorted. “Not before I get all of the good stories out of him.”

“Oh, Spike can surely keep you entertained for days,” Angel replied. He’d gladly suffer the humiliation of a slew of Spike stories to keep Connor happy. Angel sobered. “I am sorry, son.”

“It’s not your fault, Dad.” Connor’s fingers balled in the sheets, his pain shining through. “I meant what I said before. You’ve been good to me, beating aside. Better than the rest. I’m just so very tired.”

“I know.” Angel stroked Connor’s hair again. “You’ve been there before. I couldn’t help you then. Let me help you now.”

“I don’t know what you can do, Dad.” Connor’s eyes dimmed, trying not to think about the last time Angel helped, which had inadvertently lead to this moment. “You can’t force people to be nice to me.”

“No, but I can find you a good place to stay, where you can get better, and you won’t have to deal with them if they can’t be civil,” Angel said softly.

Connor sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“I just don’t want you to go yet, son. There’s a lot of life ahead of you. I want you to get well and enjoy it,” Angel whispered, his voice cracking as he closed his hand over Connor’s.

“I did what I thought…” Connor shook his head. “I just wanted it to end. I don’t expect you to understand.”

Angel’s jaw set. He knew exactly what he needed to say. “But I do. I tried to kill myself, Connor, one Christmas Eve not all that long ago really, back in Sunnydale when Buffy was still in high school. I tried to greet the sun.”

Connor eyed him suspiciously. “How didn’t you die?”

“Buffy tried to talk me out of it,” Angel replied. “And it snowed in southern California, blotting out the sun. The Powers That Be weren’t ready for me to die. Maybe they weren’t ready for you, either since Buffy and Dawn went looking for you in time and Willow just happened to decide to stock up on that medicine that would reverse the narcotics. That was a lot of things that had to fall into place.”

Connor mulled that for a moment. “I suppose so.”

A soft knock sounded on the door and Buffy peeked in. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Connor said. “Though I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be awake.”

“We’ll get Willow to release you, son, and we’ll all go home,” Angel said, his dark eyes lighting up.

“I think he’s supposed to stay for seventy-two hours, Angel,” Buffy said uneasily and Angel looked ready to protest.

“Dad, it’s okay. I want to stay. It’s not the first time I’ve been in on a seventy-two hour hold. I think really I need to be here. You can arrange to have Lorelei come see me instead of me having to talk to whatever shrink’s on duty here. That would be a big help.”

His brow knit. “Are you sure, Connor?” 

“I think we could all use the rest, Dad. We could talk to Lorelei and Willow about taking the restraints off, naughty nurse fantasies aside, I’d rather not be spoon fed and all the rest.” Connor smiled.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Is the naughty nurse thing universal?”

“Probably,” Angel replied, a hint of humor hiding in the corners of his generous mouth. “We can arrange that, Connor. This is the Watcher hospital so Lorelei’s around. You just sleep now.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Even with that settled, Angel found it hard to leave. Buffy led him out of the hospital and to the parking garage so he could get into the trunk like so much luggage.

X X X

Buffy hadn’t been back at the hotel for ten minutes when her cell rang with Xander’s ring tones. She thought for a moment about just crashing on her bed and ignoring it. Instead, she answered. “What’s up, Xander?”

“You need to get to the school, Buffy.” The tension in his tone made Buffy wince.

“But I just go in.” She knew her friends could handle most crises. “I was at the hospital all last night.”

“Leda escaped, and she killed Tricia,” he said, pain in his voice.

Buffy nearly dropped her phone. She couldn’t have possibly anticipated that. “Oh God, I’ll be right there.”

Angel peered out of their bedroom at her, hearing her anxiety. “What’s wrong?”

“Leda killed Tricia and escaped. I have to get to the school,” Buffy replied, trying to find the shoes she had just kicked off.

“I’ll go with you.”

She held up a hand. “No, you’re exhausted, Angel. Stay.”

“You’re no less tired. You have a rogue slayer who got past Willow’s magic. I’m going,” Angel insisted, his thick arms crossing over his broad chest.

Buffy nodded. She knew arguing with Angel was futile. “All right.”

She broke all the traffic rules getting to the school as fast as she could. She wondered briefly if Angel was capable of getting motion sick in the back. Xander and Willow were both waiting for Buffy outside the school as the slayer swung under the covered carport.

“How did this happen?” Buffy demanded to know as she popped the trunk.

“We don’t know. Somehow she got past the holding spell,” Willow said, her pale face blotchy with anger.

“She wasn’t a witch,” Xander reminded them. 

Buffy opened the door so Angel could dash inside. “Willow, your holding spell, was it on the room or on her?”

“The room,” Willow said, following Buffy inside. “Robin and Giles are dealing with Tricia’s murder. We had to call the police, of course. I’m not sure they believe Leda killed her.”

“I still can’t believe she did that,” Xander said, his dark eyes widened.

“She saw Tricia as her betrayer,” Angel said, knowing all too well about prey-predator relationships. “She was the enemy. Leda probably counts Buffy and Connor as that as well, probably you, too, Willow.”

“Do you think Connor is in any danger?” Buffy glanced over at the vampire.

Angel shook his head. “I doubt she would have any idea that Connor is hospitalized but we should be concerned with Leda turning up at the hotel.”

Xander nodded as he headed up the steps towards Leda’s room. “How is he, Angel?”

Angel’s eyes narrowed but he sensed nothing but honest concern. “Connor’s doing okay, all things considered. They’ll keep him at the hospital for a while.”

“It’s a good thing, right?” Xander asked.

“Better than this.” Angel gestured down the hall. 

“I want to know how this happened,” Buffy growled, tossing open the door to Leda’s prison. The sparse furniture was intact and the window was as well. The bars didn’t even seem to have been tried.

Angel stood outside of the path of the light as his friends started to investigate. “How about the ceiling tiles? Connor showed us Leda used them to store drugs,” he reminded them.

“I took care of that, too, with my wards,” Willow replied.

“Will, what is this?” Buffy pointed to something on the outside of the windowsill. “Did you put this here?”

Willow peered at the sigil. “Damn. She has some sort of outside help. This broke my wards.”

“Outside help?” Xander’s face screwed up, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them from jittering. “Why does that sound very, very bad?”

“Because it is,” Buffy said. “Not only is she rogue but she might be working for some other supernatural force that we know nothing about.” Buffy punched the sill, cracking it. “We didn’t need this, not with that demoness running around.”

“I can’t imagine a good time for a rogue Slayer backed up by an unknown magic user,” Angel said, scowling. 

“What do we do now?” Xander asked.

“We have to find out who she might be working with,” Willow said. “Leave this to me. I’ll start asking around the magical community.”

“And I’ll start knocking on demons’ doors to see if anyone has seen Leda. I’ll tap into Wolfram and Hart’s resources as well,” Angel said, wishing there was more any of them could do. He could see the tension in Buffy’s eyes. He, himself, didn’t need any more problems. He was drowning as it was but fate seemed to think they could handle more.


	22. home again

Chapter twenty- two

_It’s been too long_  
My spirit’s been at war  
Havasupai Shaman  
Let me be reborn  
 **In the House Of Stone and Light - Page Martin**

“Still nothing?” Connor asked, swinging out of the car. Dawn had driven him home. His father had been determined to talk about other things in the three days Connor was in the hospital, things that had nothing to do with escaped rogue Slayers or a murderous demoness. Connor understood why but he couldn’t help being interested.

“I think we’re actually moving backwards,” Dawn said as she locked up the car, obviously either not having been informed of the Buffy-Angel party line of not telling him anything, or she just didn’t care.

“I wish I knew what I could do.” Connor wrinkled his nose. “Maybe I could help find out if anyone new has hit the streets. Street people talk but not to you all.”

Dawn favored him with a look. “I can guarantee Angel won’t like that.”

“I’ve made a career of doing everything Dad doesn’t like,” he replied wryly. Connor walked with Dawn into the hotel. “If I can help, I want to do it.”

“Something tells me that there’s no stopping you when you set your mind to it,” Dawn grinned at him, heading for the elevator. “Want to go up and see Angel?”

He shook his head, thinking he wasn’t quite ready to invade his father’s perfectly ordered domain yet again. “He’s probably sleeping. Let him rest. If he’s not sleeping, he’ll drift down on his own. Set me up somewhere and give me something to do,” Connor pleaded.

“Easy peasy.” Dawn beckoned for him to follow. “With everyone so busy with Leda, the research into the demoness has been sidelined. How’s your ancient Aztec?”

Connor’s eyebrows arched. Being research guy had never been his strong suit. “Nonexistent.”

Dawn laughed. “I’ll handle the codices then.” She gestured to the couch in the oddly deserted library. “Have a seat.”

Connor gladly folded up with few books, trying to be helpful. He figured that pitching in would help him feel more useful. At the very least, it would give him something to do until the afternoon and his session with Lorelei. He was almost looking forward to seeing his therapist.

Mostly what Connor did, however, was let his abused body drift off to sleep, staying that way until he heard little footsteps and someone peeled a book off his face. Connor stared up at Joshua who smiled down at Connor. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, you’re gonna get marks on your face,” Josh said, stabbing a finger at the book.

Connor sat up, rubbing his face, noticing Fred hovering in the doorway. Dawn didn’t even look up from where she was translating Aztec into English. “I think it’s too late for that.”

“It is wrinkly.” Josh grinned, giving Connor an appraising look. “Mom said you weren’t feeling so good.”

“Your mom is right,” Connor replied, wondering if he should even tell Josh that much. “But I’m getting better.”

“I know what can help,” Josh said brightly.

“Oh?” Connor quirked up his eyebrows.

“Fudgesicles and PlayStation.” Josh grabbed Connor’s hand, bouncing at his own suggestion. “That’d make anyone feel better.”

Connor laughed. “I’m willing to give it a try if your mom doesn’t mind.” He cast a glance over at Fred.

She nodded, coming into the room completely. “It’s early enough in the afternoon, and I’ve never seen anything that _could_ ruin Josh’s appetite.” She put a hand on her son’s head. He scampered off, grinning.

Connor smiled at her. “You and Gunn have a really nice son.”

“He’s a good boy. He likes everyone,” Fred said, looking back toward where her son disappeared.

“I’ve noticed.” Connor rubbed his sleepy eyes. “Any luck finding a place to get him out town?”

“Not yet,” Fred replied more politely than she had in a very long time. Connor wondered how much guilt she felt at his suicide attempt. “But with the sanctuary spell, he should be relatively safe here.”

“Angel and the others would understand if you left,” Connor said, reaching out to her, and then changed his mind. It might be too soon for that. His hand fell back onto the couch pillow.

“And if you’re right that this is about Gunn and whatever that demoness wants with him, running might not help.” Fred crossed her arms over her chest, her glasses choosing that moment to slid down and ruin the stern effect.

Connor spread his hands. “You have a point. I’ll look out for Josh while he’s here. I know this doesn’t mean a whole lot in the shape I’m in.”

“It means a lot that you offered,” Fred said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Connor smiled at her, pleased with the progress they had apparently made. “And with the sanctuary spell on this place, I’m actually pretty useless even if I were at full strength.” Connor ran a hand through his hair. “Does that spell effect the Slayers? Didn’t I hear they have demon enhanced abilities?”

“It seemed that way but they are still human. The spell doesn’t bother them,” Dawn said, not looking up from the codices. “We’ve tested it.”

“Good to know since Dad and I can’t fight in here and Lorne…I can’t imagine him fighting anywhere even though I know he does.” Connor rolled his shoulders.

“Here you go.” Josh bounced in with the Fudgesicles. He surrendered one to Connor, and then went to set up his video game. Connor let Josh distract him and found playing the game and interacting with the kid did help just a little with the depression. He was so lost in his game that when Willow and Spike came in, Willow’s pronouncement of, “I think we know who Leda’s working with,” startled him.

“Who?” Dawn asked eagerly, finally abandoning her Aztec codex.

Willow glanced around the still mostly empty room as if she expected a bigger audience or at least one capable of springing to action. “Rtaena, a half demon witch who’s a lot like Rack was in Sunnydale.” A shadow flitted across Willow’s face as she mentioned that name, a shadow Connor couldn’t guess at.

“We should probably call Buffy,” Dawn said. “Fred, Connor, can you hold down the fort here?”

“I’ll get back to the research as soon as Josh is done handing me my head.” Connor grinned.

“That shouldn’t take long,” Spike said with the tone of man who had been handed his by the boy.

“Aww you can’t quit so soon,” Josh cried with a prodigious pout.

“You’ve played long enough, son,” Fred decided. “And you have homework to do.”

Josh made a face but finished ‘killing’ Connor before trundling off to do his work. Dawn went with Spike and Willow to meet Buffy at the school. Connor and Fred took up the dreary task of research. 

X X X

“I could have stayed out longer, you know,” Buffy curled up on the couch. It was a familiar refrain for her. She and Angel shared the first part of the night but he wanted her to have some daylight in her life. The compromise was, unless the world was nigh on to ending that night, she would go home in the early morning to get some sleep, and he would prowl the night alone.

Still some nights it was nice to stay in and just pretend they were any other couple. Angel decided this would be one such night. “I know but I thought it would be nice to put in a movie and relax,” Angel said. “We’ve earned it. The last few days have been very stressful and we took Willow’s tip as far as we could tonight.”

Buffy smiled. “That sounds good.” Her smile faltered slightly. “It’s your turn to pick the movie.” A hint of trepidation filled her voice.

“Indeed it is.” Angel went over to the DVD library and pulled out his selection. He wiggled it at Buffy.

She rolled her eyes. “The Three Stooges? What is it with men and the Stooges?”

“They’re funny,” Angel said as if that were patently obvious.

Buffy mumbled something that might have been ‘you see yourself in them.’ “I’ll go pop some corn.”

Angel heard the bag hit the microwave’s innards as he set up the player. Even though neither of them really needed it, he unfurled the soft blanket Buffy liked to curl up with, and then got some drinks. They curled up together and Angel did have a few kernels of the corn. They tasted like nothing but she liked him to do the social thing. “I wish that our lives could be simpler,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her.

Buffy nestled back against him. “I know. It’s okay, Angel. This is what we do. I accepted that a long time ago but yes, I could do without the rogue slayer. At least Connor seems to be doing a little better.”

Angel nodded. “Finally. I know, if we can make him feel at home, he can get better.” He sighed, a weary expression on his face. “And yes, I know that’s a lot of wishful thinking. I, better than anyone, know what addiction is like.”

“And you also know it’s not hopeless,” Buffy squeezed his hand with greasy fingers. “Angel, let’s be happy tonight. No depressing talk. Watch your Stooges.”

Angel kissed the back of her neck. “I love you, you know that?”

“I do but it’s always good to hear.”

Angel very willingly forgot about all their various traumas and let the Stooges lift his spirits. Soon enough, they abandoned Moe and the others, Angel carrying Buffy to the bedroom. Sometimes, nights in were just what the doctor ordered.

X X X

 

She knew where her mate was now. From all the scents, she knew that there were many people living within the tall building. Having met some of them, learning just how dangerous they were, she was in no hurry to charge in alone. She had found those who smelled like magic, the kind who would be willing to help her. Tomorrow, that’s what the magical could-be meal had said, and she decided not to eat the female. If she could help then she could wait to make a meal of the magical ones. Once she had her mate back, there was nothing she couldn’t do. They could go home together. She would like that. Slinking back into the night, she waited. She could be patient, after all.


	23. The bad things in the night

Chapter Twenty-Three

_What makes you go abroad fighting for strangers_  
When you could be safe at home free from all dangers?   
**Fighting for Strangers-Steel-eyed Span**

Connor waited for the hotel to quiet down before digging out his grungiest clothing, slipping out into the night. He knew he should have gotten an earlier start since it was a long walk back to his old territory. The warm night air felt like home. Even before he had become Angelboy, Connor had felt at home in the dark. Maybe it was because he needed the nocturnal demons to fight or maybe he just liked to escape the harsh red glare of Quor-Toth and night seemed cool and soothing to him by contrast.

Whatever it was, his Angelboy persona slipped back on like skin, a reminder he was little more than one step away from his street life. His head as clear as he could keep it, Connor started the rounds. His old companions seemed surprised to see him and a few even seemed happy to cross his path again. Connor was amused to hear all the various tales of where he had been rumored to have gone. Taken by aliens was his current favorite.

Not many of those he questioned had heard of a ‘tough woman’ making her presence known. Connor figured that bland description would cover both demonesses and rogue slayers. However, his night wasn’t a total loss. While demons might be beyond the realm of belief for most street people, apparently magic wasn’t. He had a line on the bar where Rtaena practiced her craft. 

Finding the place took a little doing. It was the kind of dive even Angelboy would think twice about going into. Still, Connor went inside Willy’s Wet Whistle, not at all surprised to see demons made up a large part of the clientele. Figuring not having a drink would make him stand out more, he wormed his way to the bar. There were a few humans in the dark pub, including the bartender who gave him the fish-eye when Connor finally made it to the brass rail.

“What can I get you?”

Connor eyed the dingy mugs the patrons seated at the bar were drinking out of and decided against a draft. “What do you have in a bottle beer wise?” He settled for a Bud, and then found himself a shadowy corner to settle into so he could look around without looking like he was spying.

It didn’t take long to figure out who Rtaena was. Long blue hair with blond streaks – natural or not, Connor didn’t know – barely hid the goat-like horns that curved back wickedly from her head. From his distance, she looked otherwise normal and young. She was holding court back by the pool tables and, even from where he was, Connor’s sharp hearing – under assault by crowd noises and a jukebox playing something screaming and obnoxious - picked up enough snatches of conversation to be sure of her identity. 

Grinning at his success in finding Rtaena, he knew he should go back to the Hyperion. Connor felt fairly sure this was her usual base of operation. He knew enough to know his strengths. Even if he wasn’t weakened with drugs as he was now, his physical prowess wouldn’t do him much good against magic. Draining his beer, Connor got up to go. 

A pretty Asian girl crossed his path. She caught his arm and smiled sweetly. “Going so soon, cutie?”

“‘Fraid so,” he replied, keeping his face placid. For once, he wasn’t bemused at a woman’s interest in him. This time he understood perfectly.

“Too bad. Well, I guess it is getting late. Could you walk me to my car? It’s ugly out there.” She favored him with another pretty smile.

He offered up the dopey grin of the totally clueless, figuring that was his best bet. “Sure.”

She locked arms with him as they headed for the door. “What do they call you?”

“Angelboy.”

“That’s sweet.” She snuggled up close to him as they left the bar. “Angels? How would you like to meet some?” Her voice went gravelly, her fingers digging in as she hauled him closer.

“Met one. He’s annoying.” Connor slipped the stake out of his pocket, slamming it home. “Takes more than you to make me meet another,” he told her dust. “As if I wouldn’t know a vampire when I see one.”

Brushing dust off his shirt, Connor headed home, pleased with himself for a change. It was nearly dawn by the time he made it back to the Hyperion. To his surprise, a light was on in the lobby and Angel sat under it, reading a book. “Please tell me you weren’t waiting up for me?” Connor grumbled.

“Not really. I am a night owl, after all.” Angel smirked. 

Connor didn’t believe him since his father could have read his book in his suite’s living room but decided not to push it. “I haven’t forgotten.”

Angel closed the book. “Why didn’t you ask me to go with you tonight?”

“I thought Angelboy might fit in a bit better than some scary brute.” Connor mirrored his father’s smirk.

Angel snorted, a hint of pride in his eyes. “And did he?”

“I found Rtaena,” Connor said proudly, puffing up a bit, seeing the look on Angel’s face. “And staked a vampire so I say it was a good night.”

“You found her where?” Angel tossed his book aside and got up to clasp Connor’s shoulder.

“At a place called Willy’s Wet Whistle.”

“Willy’s?” Angel made a face. “Nah, can’t be.”

“Can’t be what? I saw her, watched her for well over an hour.” Connor bristled. Why did Angel never believe him?

“No, I don’t doubt that.” Angel crossed his arms. “I meant there was a human named Willy in Sunnydale who owned a demon bar. He was a real tool.”

“Human bartender here, too, but doesn’t mean it’s the same guy.” Connor cocked his head. “Does it matter?”

“Gives us some leverage, possibly.” Angel smiled. “Excellent work, son, but I wished you would have told us where you were going.”

“I can take care of myself, Angel, but okay, next time,” Connor said, figuring it wasn’t an entirely unreasonable request. “Guess I should get up to bed.”

“Good night, son,” Angel said. “And good work, thanks.”

Connor went upstairs and nudged Ratter off his pillow. The cat complained about it, and then settled down next to him. Feeling happy with himself, Connor drifted off.

X X X

“Hey, Gunn, it’s been a while,” Anne’s voice rang out in the library as Spike ushered her in.

“Found her and the kids on the stoop,” Spike said, returning to his place next to a pile of books.

“Hey, Anne, what brings you here?” Gunn asked, getting up to give her a hug.

“I’d like to say it’s because I missed you but it’s just as much because another certain someone hasn’t been around the center.” She cast a glance at Connor. “A few people have missed him.” She turned and waved at the doorway. Slowly, as if needing Anne to reel them in with invisible string, Darts and Tin Man came into the room. They brightened up seeing Connor.

“Angelboy!” Tin Man cried, his eyes gleaming.

“Hey!” Connor pushed off the couch, rolling over the back of it. “How are all of you?”  
Tin Man tossed his arms around Connor. Darts’ greeting was more reserved. “I’ve missed you guys.”

“Then why didn’t you come for us?” Darts asked coolly.

“Anne said you wanted to but couldn’t,” Tin Man added, nudging Darts.

Connor shot Anne a grateful look. “She’s so right about that. I’m sorry. I got hurt and was in the hospital. I’m glad you came. Can I get you something to eat or drink?” Connor noticed their uneasy looks in regards to all the people in the room. “It’s okay. These are all good people,” he assured the kids. “Gunn is Anne’s friend and that’s Spike, the guy who met you at the door. That’s Giles and his lady friend, Lorelei, and lastly that’s Angel. He’s my…” Connor trailed off, wondering what to say next.

“Brother,” Angel supplied smoothly.

“Brother?” Darts asked, a suspicious gleam in her eyes. She backed away. “You never said you had a brother, Angelboy.”

“Yeah, I have some family,” Connor replied. “They weren’t that involved in life on the street.”

“Are they why you ran away from home?” Tin Man asked quietly, eyeing Angel nervously as he took shelter within Connor’s arm reach. Connor hadn’t forgotten what the boy’s father had done to him.

“No, my family is okay, good people mostly. I’m the one with the problems,” Connor shrugged. “I’m working them out. Everyone here is helping lots.” He smiled at Tin Man and Darts reassuringly, taking stock of how they looked. “So how are you guys?”

“Good,” Tin Man said quickly. “Anne’s been nice.” Tin Man looked up at the crown molding. “Old buildings are really cool. Can we see more of it?” 

Connor glanced at Angel who smiled. “I don’t see why not. Why don’t you show them around? We’re still doing our work here. We can spare you.”

“Thanks, Angel.” Connor put a hand on the kids’ shoulders.

He took them around the art deco hotel, thrilling Tin Man much more than Darts, who didn’t care much about architecture. Finally, he herded them out into the courtyard. Like him, they were used to being out nights. They needed some sun and time in a green place.

“You look happy,” Darts said at long last, lounging back against sun-warmed grass. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you look happy if you weren’t totally high.”

Connor winced at the young, brutal honesty. He was only a little high at the moment but the less said about that the better. “I’m sorry about that. I should have been a better example.”

“You were good to us,” Tin Man protested. “You made me feel safe. No one’s ever done that.”

His eyes stung as he blinked rapidly. He hadn’t had time to really think about how much he had missed his kids. “I’m glad.”

“Hey, Connor, I see you have guests.”

Connor’s head snapped up, seeing Buffy and Willow coming into the courtyard. 

“Connor, is that your real name?” Darts gazed at him with curious eyes.

“Yes, you can call me that if you’d like.”

She shook her head. “You’re always going to be Angelboy to me.”

Connor smiled. “Darts, Tin Man, this is my brother’s wife, Buffy.” He shot the ladies a ‘play along’ look. “And her good friend, a doctor who has been taking good care of me, Willow. Buffy you’ve already met Darts and Tin Man.”

“Just briefly. Nice to see you again.” Buffy smiled, and they mumbled shy hellos. “Connor, thanks for your help last night.”

“We’ll be heading to the bar tonight,” Willow added.

“Will you need me?” he asked.

“We’ll let you know,” Buffy replied, and then raised her hand, waving at something behind Connor. “Hey Anne.”

“Hi Buffy, Willow.” Anne gestured at Darts and Tin Man. “It’s time to go.”

“Aww,” Tin Man whined but he got up. “Okay, but this would be a really cool place to live, too. Lots of space.”

Connor shot a glance at Buffy, and then tried to deflect the barely veiled hint about them rejoining Angelboy. “It’s nice but it’s a lot busier here than it looks,” he said, rolling to his feet.

Tin Man and Darts hugged him. As Tin Man let go, he whispered, “My name is Niklas.”

Connor smiled as they left, a tightness in his throat and a stinging pricked his eyes. Feeling a hand on his arm, he turned to face Buffy.

“Those kids care about you.” Her expression said he had just moved up a step in her eyes.

“I’m as close to family as they have,” Connor replied, shuffling his toes over the grass.

“Buffy and I know that it’s like to have to look for family outside the home, or at least family that understands us,” Willow said, looking after Anne and the kids, a wistful expression on her face.

“Until Dawn came, at least,” Buffy corrected. “Come on in, Connor. We’ll talk about tonight.”

“Sure. Did you find out anything useful?”

Buffy held up a hand to hold off the question until they were back inside. Connor was surprised to see most of the team had reconvened while he had been with the kids. “We have some big news,” she said.

“The Wet Whistle really is run by Sunnydale Willy,” Willow said with a grin to the rolling of several pairs of eyes.

“We’ll assume he’s still a slime ball,” Angel said.

“And can be bought for cheap,” Spike added, shaking his fist before slamming it into his palm to illustrate his idea of cheap.

“That’s probably safe to say but I’d rather not involve him at all if we can avoid it,” Buffy replied. “As Connor said, it’s definitely a demon bar. Rtaena doesn’t come in until well after dark.”

“We’re still researching the kind of demon blood she has.” Willow spread her hands in apology. “So we’ll know what to expect.”

“There’s a lead on Leda I was to follow up before I go meet Willow at Willy’s Wet Whistle tonight.” Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Way too many W’s in that sentence.”

“Who’s Red’s back up?” Spike asked. “If you don’t want Willy involved, it gets sticky. If me and Peaches show up along with Willow, Willy is bound to know something’s up. It’ll put everyone’s back up.”

“We thought of that,” Buffy said. “Cordelia and Xander are staying at the school to keep the girls reassured. Gunn, Wesley, Dawn and Giles should be unknown to Willy so they’ll be inside. Faith and Spike can track down Leda, instead of me I guess, leaving Angel and me outside the bar as backup. Fred, you and Connor can do more research here.”

Connor pulled a long face. “I’m not really research guy.”

“And you’re not really in top shape, son,” Angel replied apologetically. “Fred could use back up here in case something goes wrong. There’ll just be her and Joshua here. Lorelei has a night class tonight at the community college. Right now, I’d rather no one is on their own.”

Connor sighed. “Okay, that makes sense. I’ll do it.”

“Any questions?” Buffy asked. No one answered so they all filtered out to get to their respective jobs.

X X X

 

Connor stretched, trying not to look as bored as he felt. He and Fred had traded places. She did research and he played games with her son until finally Josh went upstairs to bed. It was a solution that made everyone happy. It rankled that he didn’t get to go on the mission, even though Connor knew why. It made good tactical sense to leave him behind. Connor wondered if he could get clean enough to be helpful to anyone ever again. He had avoided cops pretty meticulously. Much of what he had done would have no record of outside his memory but clean or not, no one would give him custody of Tin Man and Darts. He had no past for the last several years. Any investigator would unearth dirt he didn’t want turned over. Still, there had to be something he could do for his young friends.

That thought died as the sound of breaking glass and Fred’s startled cry echoed out of the kitchen. Connor raced for the room. He nearly fell over his own feet, seeing not only the demoness standing in the kitchen but Leda with several hooded people. His heart fell, wrapping around his ankles, nearly tripping him with emotional bonds. The demoness was bad enough but to have her assisted by a Slayer? 

The demoness’s long tongue arched out cat-like, polishing her teeth as she eyed Fred. “You took my mate, Balam-Quitze. You die,” the demoness lisped around her fangs.

“Remember, Caha-Paluma, you can’t attack anyone in here.” Leda gave Fred and Connor a wide grin. “That’s what me and these guys are for.” Her hand swept out to the masked men. Leda leapt forward but Connor shocked her by moving faster. She had made the mistake of thinking that he was nothing more than a junkie her friend, Amaya, had tried to get drugs from. He grabbed Fred and ran with her over his shoulders, moving at a speed to match a Slayer.

“What the hell?” Leda roared. “Get them both.”

“Hang on, Fred. “ Connor made it out of the kitchen and to the staircase. He leapt up to the mezzanine, knowing the humans couldn’t do it. Leda was the one he had to worry about. He let Fred down, holding tight to her wrist, hauling her down the hall out of bullet range.

“Connor, you have to get Josh out of here.” Fred tried to pull him to a stop.

“Let’s get him.” Connor let her steer him to the suite she shared with Gunn. “But hurry. They’re coming.”

Fred didn’t waste energy agreeing, just ran through her suite. “Josh is in bed.” She tore open a chest in the living room. “Get him.” As she dragged out two pistols, Connor ignored her to race in and snag Josh. The hard-sleeping boy sprawled against Connor’s shoulder. “Fred, what are you doing?”

“You can’t save us both at once. Get my son to safety, Connor.”

“But…” He could carry two, maybe. Then again in the shape he was in, probably not.

“Now!” She slapped a clip into the pistol for emphasis.

Connor threw open the window, crouching on the sill. “Stay in here, Fred. I’m taking the shortcut. I’ll be right back.”

Holding on tight to Joshua, Connor stepped out onto the fire escape, and then out into air. Joshua woke up as they fell. Connor smothered Josh’s cries against his shoulder, making sure they didn’t land on the cast iron fencing that adorned the courtyard wall.

“What’s happening?” Josh asked, his voice a mix of sleepiness and shock. 

“Bad people are here.” Connor wasn’t willing to lie to him. “Listen very closely to me, Joshua. I’m going to hide you. Promise me you’ll stay where I put you. I need to go help your mom but if we can’t find you later, it’ll be bad.” Connor glanced around frantically for a place to hide him that wasn’t too far away. Josh wasn’t going to be able to just run from the bad guys. The best he could do was hide.

Joshua held out a pinkie. “I swear.”

Connor hooked his pinkie in Joshua’s. “Good boy.” A feral grin slipped over Connor’s face as he spotted something. It was less than ideal but it would do. He jogged to the dumpster. “I know it stinks but you have to stay inside.”

Joshua’s arms tightened around him. “I’m scared.”

“I know. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Connor put him in with the garbage. He hoped the smell would cover Josh’s scent. He couldn’t smell the boy now but he didn’t trust that his sense of smell was superior to the demoness’. 

His muscles coiling, Connor leapt back up to the fire escape, tossing himself into a window. Fred was no longer in her suite but he could hear her screaming and all but flew down the hall. A gun barked sharply and a man shrilled. Connor rounded a corner and saw Fred running. “This way,” Connor shouted, and then grabbed Fred’s arm. Bloodied and bruised, Fred held on tight to his hand. “We’re going down the fast way, just like I did with Josh,” Connor said, slamming through a door, intending to go out another window. “Just hang on very tight.”

“I won’t let go. Joshua?” Her huge eyes studied his face for the answer.

“Safe.”

Fred almost collapsed at that news.

“Funny, since that’s the last thing you are,” a gruff voice said a moment before a gun fired.

Connor spun around, the bullet tearing through his arm. Howling, he lost his grip on Fred.

“Damn, missed,” the man said, striding into the room obviously unhappy with just winging Connor.

“Leave him to me.” Leda’s voice rang happily as she sauntered in behind him. “Shoot the bitch but leave enough for Caha-Paluma to play with.” Leda catapulted herself at Connor, and he reacted instinctively, charging her.

“Connor, no!” Fred’s voice pierced the fiery rage burning in Connor’s mind, too late to stop him.

The Sanctuary spell slapped him straight out of the window. Connor’s vision dimmed as his head slammed into the window frame. Barely conscious, he couldn’t control his fall. Connor shrieked as the vicious cold spires of the cast iron fencing tore into him. Hearing Fred’s cries, thin and long in the wind above him, Connor tried to grip the slippery wet iron to heave himself off but will and consciousness fled leaving him pinned like a butterfly, bleeding into the hedges below.


	24. Dead and Dying

Chapter Twenty-Four

_We part the veil on our killer sun_  
Stray from the straight line on this short run  
The more we take, the less we become  
The fortune of one that means less for some   
**World on Fire -Sarah McLachlan**

“I can’t tell you anything,” Rtaena growled at Buffy, her clawed fingers flexing and unflexing as Angel held onto Rtaena’s wrists. Behind them, several team members dangled from what looked like the thorn forest in _Sleeping Beauty_ , which had suddenly sprung up in the bar.

Buffy rolled her eyes as the few bar patrons who were too jaded to flee immediately, rapidly filed out around them. “I’m pretty sure you can do better than that. In fact, you’ll have to if you want to live.”

“As if the Slayer would let me live.”

“Sometimes having a good informant,” Buffy tapped Rtaena’s horn, “is better than a dead demoness so tell me what you know about a young slayer named Leda.”

“She’s a bitch,” Rtaena spat.

“How about something we don’t already know.” Angel’s grip tightened.

Rtaena winced. “Heard she’s been looking around town for help bringing together magic users and demons.” She chuckled. “Sounds like you’re in trouble, Slayer. She’s looking to bring your little group to its knees.”

Rtaena reared back, slamming her curved horns into Angel’s jaw with a bone-crunching crack. He staggered back and Rtaena lurched forward. Buffy just hoped Giles was right about her sort of demon’s weakness and that being a half breed wouldn’t change things drastically. Her blade slipped in, and then a mound of blue powder piled up on the floor where Rtaena used to be.

“That wasn’t very helpful.” Buffy’s gaze cut over to Giles who worked on making the thorny vine that dangled Gunn close to the ceiling let him go.

Gunn grunted as he dropped to the floor when Giles’s spell worked. He shook himself off. “She made us somehow.”

Angel cast a glance around the room, dodging around a few tables to snag Willy before he escaped. He dragged the man back to Buffy. “Did you tell her, Willy?”

“Hell, no.” The scrawny bartender offered up without any threats needed. “I don’t even know them…well, I thought the Brit looked familiar.”

“Then how did Rtaena know them on sight?” Buffy smiled at Willy.

“She’s a witch?”

Wesley gut punched Willy, obviously glad to have a target after what Rtaena had done to them. Willy gasped, glaring as he lifted his head.

“Fine, there was some teenaged girl in here a few nights back, giving Rtaena the 411. Hit me all you want, I don’t know her name.”

Angel shoved Willy aside. “Dark hair?”

Willy bobbed his head.

“Don’t worry, we know her,” Dawn said bitterly.

“Damn it,” Buffy muttered, stomping towards the door. The others moved in her wake. She dragged out her cell phone once they were outside. “Hey, Faith? Got a line on Leda?”

“Not a thing,” Faith’s answered faded in and out over the lousy connection.

“We’ve got a real problem. Leda has been siccing some big bads on us. Meet us back at the hotel. We need a better plan.” Buffy looked at her companions. “In how many ways does this suck? We’d better get home. I’ve got a very bad feeling about all of this.”

 

X X X

 

“Hey, B, what the hell is up?” Faith asked, heading up the sidewalk just as Buffy’s group arrived at the Hyperion, coming from the other direction. 

“Something isn’t right,” Angel said lowly, getting out of the car. His nostrils flared as he swept his head from side to side, as if he was homing in on something. 

“Understatement,” Buffy grumbled.

“No, I mean here, now.” Angel flung a hand out toward the hotel. “I smell blood.”

“Shit!” Faith glared at the hotel, trying to spot danger in the gloom.

Angel sniffed the air. “I think it’s outside.”

“Fan out and be careful,” Buffy ordered.

Spike, Willow and Dawn followed Faith as she ran on an adrenaline rush. She didn’t like that she only knew half the story but that was par for the course. What had Leda set loose on them? Sounds like whatever it was might have already found them. They checked the courtyard. Faith heard cries from the other direction, as her friends called out Fred’s name.

Spike glanced over at Faith. “Should we go see what happened?”

“Not yet. We need to make sure the area is clear,” Faith replied grimly. 

“But it’s Fred,” Spike protested.

Sometimes Faith wondered if Spike ever got over the girls he fell for. “I know.”

“Did you hear that?” Dawn cast about in the darkness. “Sounded like a moan.”

Faith shook her head, moving faster. “Son of a bitch!” She couldn’t hold in the explicative seeing Connor pinned on the ironwork fence. Now she knew where all the blood smell was coming from. A pool of it had formed under him. “Oh, fuck.”

Willow caught up to Faith, and then pushed past her. She grabbed Connor’s wrist to check for a pulse and Connor’s eyes fluttered opened. Willow jumped even as his eyes shut again. “We have to get him off of this,” Willow said. “Spike, call ahead to our hospital. Tell them…well, never mind. I’ll do it. Get Buffy and Angel.”

Dawn ran off to do that.

“Connor, can you hear me?” Faith asked, trying to figure out how they were going to free him. He mewed, blinking, while Spike screamed for their friends to hurry.

“Faith, don’t try to lift him. He’ll bleed to death if those spikes are removed,” Willow cautioned. “We’ll have to transport him with those intact. I’m arranging it now.”

“Damnit it,” Faith muttered. She hated feeling so weak.

“What is it?” Buffy’s voice echoed in the night even though she wasn’t visible yet. “We have a real problem. Fred’s been killed.”

“Shit.” Faith curled her fingers around Connor’s cold hand. “You hang in there, kid.” She startled as blue eyes opened again, staring at her. He tried to say something but it was lost in Angel’s frantic bellows as he and Buffy finally saw what was happening.

“Angel, quiet!” Faith snapped. “He’s trying to tell us something.” Angel reared back, looking as if he’d slap her or something but he shut up. “Say it again, Connor, if you can,” Faith encouraged him.

“Dumpster,” he mumbled, breathless.

Faith abandoned him to go check the dumpster, half-hearing as Willow lectured Angel gently.

“I know you or Buffy or Faith can break these bars, Angel but not without torqueing them through Connor’s body. You could hit an artery, and he won’t survive that.” Willow said. “The fire fighters know how to deal with this kind of thing. They’re coming with cutters.”

Faith tried to tune it all out as she opened the dumpster. A loud gasp echoed inside it. “Josh!”

“Is it safe?” Josh sounded very small, huddled in with the trash. The smell inside was nearly enough to bring tears to Faith’s eyes, or at least that’s what she told herself.

“Let me get you out of there,” Faith said. “It’s okay now but you need to keep your eyes shut until I tell you it’s okay.”

“Okay.” He held his hands up to her and Faith lifted him out. She scanned around but didn’t see Gunn. Damn, she was no good at comforting people, especially kids. Faith carried Josh over to Giles, keeping his head pressed to her shoulder the entire way. 

“Take him some place where he doesn’t have to see this.”

“We’ll be waiting in the car,” Giles said, taking Josh into his arms.

Faith went back to where Connor was still impaled. Angel tried to support his body, leaning in close as if to hear something Connor was whispering.

“Damn it,” Buffy said, stomping away from the fence.

“What is it?” Faith asked.

“Leda. He said Leda led the demoness here, told her to bring humans to get around the no demon violence spell,” Buffy grated out.

“That explains how they got to Fred,” Faith said. “How the hell did Connor end up like this?”

“All he said was ‘forgot.’ He must have tried to defend himself, and the spell knocked him out the window.” Buffy shot a worried look back at Connor. “I can’t believe Fred’s dead.”

“Yeah and the kid could follow her.” Faith nodded to Connor. “You and I might survive impaling like that but can he?”

“Angel seems to think so.” Buffy’s shoulders sagged. “I guess we’ll find out. Willow will take care of him. You and I need to figure out how to deal with Leda…once we take care of Fred.”

“I hate this,” Faith muttered, wrapping her arms around herself

“Everything about it,” Buffy agreed.

X X X

 

Angel wandered down the hall to the children’s wing. He couldn’t sit and wait for the surgeons to finish with Connor but he couldn’t go out and help his friends, either. He was too distracted to be of any use. Instead, he could do one thing in the few hours left of the night. He could be there for Gunn. Josh had gotten stuck by some crap in the dumpster, so they put him on antibiotic prophylaxis and Willow convinced the hospital to keep the boy overnight for observation. He was probably safer in an anonymous hospital and Josh didn’t need to be at the hotel where they were still cleaning away Fred and Connor’s blood. Angel paused, seeing Gunn in the position Angel had found himself in many times in recent days; sitting at the side of his son’s hospital bed. They decided against the Watcher hospital as Leda knew about it.

Upon seeing him, Gunn got up and made Angel back out into the hall. He softly closed the door. “Josh’s finally asleep.”

Angel nodded. “How is he?”

“He’ll be okay.” Gunn rubbed at his reddened eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, Gunn.”

“Don’t be sorry. Help me get the bitches who killed Fred.” Gunn snarled lowly.

“Gladly.” Angel’s grim reply satisfied Gunn. “Willow is going to try another tracking spell for Leda.”

“Didn’t that fail already?”

“She’s testing to see if the protection Rtaena gave Leda dissolved with her death. It’s worth a try.” Angel shrugged.

Gunn nodded. “Anything is.” He ran a hand over his shaved head. “How’s Connor?”

“Still in surgery.” Angel crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “He’ll be all right. I’m sorry he couldn’t save Fred.” Angel wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say. He didn’t know that Connor had even tried. That was just his own blind hope.

“He tried,” Gunn muttered. “Josh told me. Connor got him out and hid him before he went back for Fred. That’s when they got him, I guess. It matters that he tried. She did like him, you know.” His voice rang hollow in the antiseptic hall of the hospital. “When we were watching him when you were…gone. The hurt of what he did cut Fred deep.”

“She saw me as her savior.” Angel grimaced. “Some savior.”

“You saved us all enough over the years.”

“And vice versa.” Angel rested his hand on Gunn’s shoulder. “Is there anything I can do for you, Gunn, besides getting who did this?”

“That’ll be enough.” Gunn turned away. “I should get back to my son, and you should do the same.”

Angel patted Gunn’s back, and then headed to the waiting area. Buffy waited there for him while the rest of their friends were handling things back at the hotel. His mood darkened seeing Lilah standing there, exchanging glares with Buffy.

“Lilah, what are you doing here?”

She wobbled around to face Angel. He had to admit that her undead variety was creepy even to him.

“Nice reception.” Lilah glanced back at Buffy. “Both of you, especially when I came to tell you Wolfram and Hart has smoothed things over with the local p.d. about Fred; wild dog pack.” Her stiff shoulders twitched in something like a shrug. “And we’ll take care of the arrangements for Fred. If Gunn isn’t up to telling us what he wants, we’ll find something tasteful.

Angel nodded. “Good. Thanks,” he added, hoping to move Lilah along.

“That’s what we’re here for,” she said in an odd tone that made Angel wonder if she had ulterior motives. Luckily, she didn’t stay around for him to ask about them.

Buffy patted the vinyl-covered seat next to her and Angel sat down hard. “Any news?” he asked.

“Not yet.” Buffy curled her hand around his. They felt cold, probably from sitting around in the frigid hospital.

“I want this over with, Buffy. This has to be answered for. They killed Fred, and would have killed Josh if Connor hadn’t been there.”

“I’m not going to push for rehabilitating our rogue Slayer. Leda killed Tricia and now Fred. She set us up to be killed in that bar. She needs to be punished. We saved Faith but her first kill was an accident. She didn’t start as a teen scheming to kill people for fun while scouting drugs…until the Mayor twisted her head around. Leda got this way on her own.”

Angel nodded, not sure he should be relieved Buffy was prepared to go all the way or sad that she could think of it. Before he could say anything, he saw someone in blue scrubs shuffling his way toward them, weariness sucking at each paper-shoe-covered footfall. Angel stood up to meet him. “Doctor, were you working on my son, Connor?”

The surgeon nodded. “He’s out of surgery now and is in stable condition. We’ll be keeping him in recovery for a while, and then move him to the surgical ICU. You can see him then.”

“Thank you.” Angel was barely aware that he had sat back down again. Buffy’s arms went around him. In that moment, he knew it would be all right, at least as good as things could get given the circumstances.


	25. Funeral

Chapter Twenty-Five

_He traded everything, for suffering,_  
And found himself alone.  
I watched the lying, turn into hiding,  
With scars on both his lips, his fingertips   
**Just to Get High - Nickleback**

“Are you sure about this?” Angel helped Connor into the Hyperion. His son could barely walk, his pale face sweating. His breath ragged in and out, shallow and painful sounding. Each pant made Angel ache. Being a father could be so amazingly hard. “You should still be in the hospital.” They had transferred him back to Ashworth hospital for the last couple of days since they had time to put up guards to watch out for Leda and her crew. He was safer there all around.

Connor’s head shake was nearly imperceptible. “I could be… endangering the innocent. Leda was pissed …when I proved slightly challenging. The demoness added…me to the list long ago. I just need… rest now. Willow said so.” He gasped. “Besides, they’ll see… how fast I heal there.”

Angel looked up at the rising moon, shining in the front windows. “All good points but you were in the Watcher’s hospital, and they already know about you.” He sighed seeing the stubborn glint in Connor’s eyes. Had he ever been this stubborn with his own father? “Fine but you’re resting in your bed and letting us take care of things.”

Connor sighed. “I don’t have the strength to argue.”

Angel took him up the elevator and installed him in his room. Ratter didn’t leave her pillow. She turned her cool feline gaze on Angel as he turned on the TV. He had installed it in the room so Connor would be entertained and had purchased a foam mattress cover so his son would be more comfortable. He put the remote on the night stand within easy reach. Connor eased himself onto the other side of the bed from his pet. Angel fussed with Connor’s pillow, and then covered him up tightly. “We’ll be up every so often to check on you.”

Connor nodded wearily. “I expected that. When Willow gets a chance, I want to see her.”

“I’ll let her know.”

Connor shut his eyes, asleep before Angel got to the door. Angel headed downstairs. The hotel was still nearly empty even though night had fallen. Most of his friends were either out looking for the demon or Leda or with Gunn at the funeral home, guarding Fred’s body until the cremation tomorrow.

When he got to the library, Angel found Spike, Giles and Lorelei working the books. Spike glanced up at Angel, and then quickly away. Angel understood. He had wanted the Shanshu for himself. When Spike first got it, he lorded it over Angel. That didn’t last long. Like Darla, Spike found going back to human almost a curse. Some days, he could barely look at Angel. Angel half expected Spike to ask to be turned again. He wondered what his answer might be. 

“How is he?” Spike mumbled, finally glancing up. His red eyes reminded Angel how much Spike had liked Fred.

“Rough.” Angel flopped down on a chair. “He should have stayed in the hospital but Connor has such a stubborn streak.”

Spike snorted. “Imagine that.”

Ignoring Spike, Angel gestured to the research articles. “Are we getting anywhere?”

“Not as far as we should be. Finding something on the Balam isn’t easy nor is Mayan a language any of us are fluent in. Dawn should be back soon. She was helping with the funeral. Tomorrow after the service and the memorial here at the hotel, Willow plans on using her tracking spell,” Giles replied.

“What we need to do is be ready to support Buffy if the worst happens,” Lorelei said in obvious counselor mode. “Killing demons is one thing. Killing a rogue Slayer is another.”

“Which is why I plan on taking care of Leda,” Angel said, knowing he wouldn’t be able to control that. He’d do his best, at any rate. He had enough deaths on his conscience; one more wouldn’t matter much. “It was hard enough on Buffy going after Faith all those years ago.”

“I’m afraid it would come to this,” Giles said, polishing his lenses. “If this has to be done, I’d rather it be you who did it.”

“Don’t worry on that account.” Angel glanced toward the window. “I can’t believe we still haven’t gotten any further. The Council, a school full of Slayers, Wolfram and Hart on the case and one psycho pathetic Slayer and some jaguar demon-goddess are giving us the slip.”

“It _is_ embarrassing,” Spike agreed, his lip curled.

“Maybe we need to start thinking like a teenaged girl to catch Leda,” Lorelei suggested and three sets of masculine eyes fixed on her. She shrugged. “It’s been years since I was a teen.”

“Still closer to it than any of us, dear.” Giles smiled at her, gesturing to the otherwise masculine room.

“I’ll give it a shot.” She got up. “I’m going to check on Connor. If he’s not still sleeping, I’d like to talk to him. What he just went through…well, he could use help coping. He and I had been making a little progress before he got hurt.”

“Thanks, Lorelei. I’m sure he could use someone to talk to and that isn’t my strong suit,” Angel admitted reluctantly. “I want to be that person but I’m not. I’ll do whatever I can to help, whatever you think I should do.”

“I’m sure he knows that you want to help.” Lorelei patted Angel’s shoulder as she sailed past.

The front door opened as Lorelei was heading for the stairs. Dawn came into the library, greeted by relieved expressions. 

“Just in time, li’l bit. We need a translator,” Spike said, waving a hand at the stack of books.

Sighing, Dawn joined them. Angel decided they could handle the research. He opted for joining Buffy and Faith out in the night.

 

X X X

 

Connor slumped against the bathroom vanity. He looked like death but at least his hair was combed. He knew that Fred’s memorial was going on downstairs. He couldn’t argue that he had been well enough to attend the funeral but he could pull on one of the new outfits his father had bought him and ride down the elevator. At least, that was his thought process. His wounds still weren’t healed in spite of it being a couple of days, and he hurt like hell but he wasn’t bleeding though his dressings anymore. The effort of sponging off in the sink and dressing had left him shaking and sweating. The meds Willow gave him were helping with his addiction but that meant the only painkiller allowed was over the counter crap that did nothing for the pain of being freaking impaled. 

“You survived pain like this in Quor-Toth with no pain killers at all,” Connor reminded himself, pushing off the vanity.

On unsteady feet, he slowly made it to the elevator. There were more people downstairs than Connor expected. He supposed he was surprised by how many friends Gunn and Fred had, mostly because the monster-killer lifestyle didn’t allow for much socializing. He recognized a few of the junior Slayers from the school and some of the guests were surely Watchers and other members of the occult community. Connor felt both glad that Fred had so many friends and deeply sad that so many people were in pain because he messed up.

He jumped, feeling a hand touch his shoulder, instantly regretting the suddenness of his movement. He moaned in pain. Faith gave him a wry look. “Sorry. You looked ready to fall over.”

“Probably am,” he said. “I just wanted to pay my respects.”

“I get that. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll send Gunn your way?” Faith pointed to a nearby chair.

Connor shrugged. “I’m not that weak,” he lied. “I can handle this.” 

Faith didn’t seem to believe him, looping a strong Slayer’s arm around his shoulders. Connor allowed himself to lean against her. He found his father and Buffy before he managed to find Gunn in the knot of people. Angel didn’t seem particularly happy to see him.

Angel’s eyes swept over him. “Should you be up?”

“I must really look awful if everyone keeps asking me that,” Connor huffed.

“You did nearly die,” Buffy replied gently. “It’s a pretty good guess you shouldn’t be walking around.”

Faith shifted her grip on him. “I’ve been trying to make him sit.”

“Seriously, I just want to pay my respects, and then I’ll go back to bed, promise,” Connor protested. “If I sit, I might never get up.”

“All right. Gunn was in the next room where the buffet is laid out, the last time I saw him. I’ll help you there,” Angel offered, holding out a hand.

Connor tightened his grip on Faith. “Faith’s helping.”

“Besides, I’m way nicer to hold onto than you.” Faith smirked. “At least from his point of view.”

Angel snorted and spearheaded their way through the crowd of angry mourners. As Gunn came into sight, Connor felt his nerve flee. What could he possibly say to Gunn? He was the reason Fred was dead. He freed up his grip on Faith and stumbled forward.

To his surprise, Gunn reached out and put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming down. I know you’re in pain. It means a lot to me.”

Connor felt the dams in his eyes filling to capacity. “I’m so sorry, Gunn. I should have been better.”

“You saved our son. That’s more than you know.” Gunn squeezed Connor’s shoulder. “Go get some rest. Take some food.”

There was an automaton tone to that invitation. Connor didn’t doubt Gunn had made it a dozen times today, and he didn’t argue. There was nothing he could say to compensate for the loss. He should just let Gunn get back to his friends. “If there’s anything I can do.”

“When we find the bitches, you can help kill them,” Gunn answered grimly.

Connor offered up a flat smile. “I’m the Destroyer. That’s somewhere still in me.”

“I’m counting on it.” Gunn gave Connor’s shoulder a final pat.

Connor noticed Angel didn’t look happy with the idea that the Destroyer could still be lurking inside him. “I’m ready to go back up.”

“Do you want something to eat?” Buffy asked, reaching for a plate on the buffet.

Connor shook his head. “I’m pretty worn out.” It wasn’t a lie. Maybe he was hungry, just a little, but he didn’t feel like he belonged with the rest of the mourners. He turned, intending to head upstairs.

“Connor, handling the rogue Slayer isn’t your responsibility,” Angel said as he took over Faith’s spot in helping Connor along. “It’s mine.”

Connor glanced over at Faith who shrugged. “Fine, but the demoness killed even more of my friends. I _am_ going to help,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument, and Angel didn’t offer any. He merely helped Connor back to the elevator and then into his room. 

“It’s not your fault, Connor,” Angel said as Connor slipped back out of his clothes and into his sleepwear. “Gunn doesn’t blame you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Actually, I do,” Angel replied with such conviction Connor believed him. 

“Still, it doesn’t really change anything.” Connor sat heavily on the bed, feeling as if that little trip downstairs had been all the way to the moon and back. 

“It changes some things. I’m an expert on carrying guilt that isn’t necessarily mine.” Angel spread his hands wide. “I can tell you this, Connor, let this burden go.”

“I’m trying,” Connor said, his head dipping. “It’s hard.”

Angel rested a hand on Connor’s arm. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

Sighing, Connor nodded. “I know you do. I need to do better, just all around better.”

“I believe you have it in you.” Angel’s tone was so compassionate Connor couldn’t ignore the implications.

He shot Angel an appreciative look. A knock on the door made Ratter jump. The cat scurried under the bed as Buffy came in with a tray of food.

“I know you said you weren’t hungry but I thought you might change your mind so I brought up some stuff that doesn’t need to be kept cold,” she said.

“Thank you, Buffy. I appreciate it.”

She set it down on the dresser. “Willow says she’ll be up later. Anything I can do for you, Connor?”

“You’ve done plenty, Buffy. Thanks, I’ll try to nibble on some stuff,” he said. “You and Dad should go back downstairs. I’ll watch some TV and rest. Leave the door open a crack in case Ratter wants to leave the room, thanks.”

“Of course.”

After they left, Connor picked two spring rolls off the plate, settling back in bed to watch a little TV, finding some _NCIS_ reruns. He liked Abby. To his surprise, there was no shrimp to pick out of his spring roll and reward Ratter with. His spring rolls were fusion food, filled with rice noodles, kiwi and strawberries, sweet, tangy and delicious.

Connor dozed off to the sounds of Abby and Tim geeking out, Ratter stretched out alongside him, but hearing an unhappy and unfamiliar voice, he woke with a start. 

“So you’re the junkie that let Fred die.”

Connor didn’t know the woman in the doorway but she looked hard. A scar seamed her cheek, pulling her lip into a perpetual frown. “I tried to save her,” he replied, the words ringing hollow and weak even to him.

“Gunn said you were Angel’s son. Must mean you aren’t all human.” Her cold gray eyes went icier.

“Does it matter?” Connor laughed bitterly. “Guess it does. I would have saved her if I were human. Who are you?”

“Does it matter?” she mocked him. “Fred and I were in the physics program together until the bad stuff came.” She touched her scar. “Fred and Gunn taught me how to kill the demons.” Her eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t look like it would take much to kill you.”

“Claire.”

At the sound of Gunn’s sharp tone, Connor relaxed. He couldn’t fight inside the hotel, even if he wasn’t so badly wounded, and Connor didn’t like his chances of surviving another fall out the window.

Coming into the room, Gunn stared at her. “What are you doing up here, Claire?”

“Taking care of something you should have,” she replied grimly, her fist balling in her trouser pocket. Connor wondered what weapon she might have in there.

Gunn caught hold of her arm. “I don’t think so. Connor isn’t to blame.”

Claire yanked away. “What’s another demon gone?”

“I’m half human,” Connor muttered. “That mattered to Fred.”

“Enough to trust Josh to his care,” Gunn said. “Connor saved our son. He tried to save Fred but he was outnumbered and hamstrung by protective spells. Not to mention he’d been shot. He almost died trying to save Fred. I know you miss her, Claire. We all do, but hurting Connor won’t bring her back. It’ll just make more people sad.”

Claire snorted. “Looks like he’ll take himself out with his habits so I guess I don’t have to bother. I’ll be downstairs.”

Connor watched the woman go with relief. “Thanks, Gunn. I know I’ve already said it but I’m really sorry.”

“I know, Connor, and I know you tried. You didn’t abandon her.” Gunn crossed the room.

“But I wasn’t good enough.” Connor’s breath hitched. A sudden upwelling of tears came faster than he could stop them. He covered his face. “She’s right. I’m a useless junkie.”

He felt Gunn’s hand on his shoulder. “I’m not convinced even if you weren’t addicted, that it would have ended differently. You still couldn’t have fought.”

Hearing the strain in Gunn’s tone, Connor dropped his hands, looking up. Gunn was crying, too. “I know but it doesn’t help.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Scrubbing his hands over his eyes, Connor murmured, “You should probably get back downstairs, Gunn. They’ll be wondering where you went.”

Gunn nodded, leaving Connor alone with his thoughts. It wasn’t a pleasant place to be. Connor tried to lose himself in the TV show that was barely registering and in stroking Ratter’s fur. In spite of himself, he drowsed, only surfacing from slumber when he heard someone else enter the room. Connor blinked blearily, pulling Willow into focus.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” she said sheepishly.

“It’s all right. I wanted to see you.” He sat up, trying to smooth down his hair. He gave it up as a lost cause.

“What can I do for you?” Willow, sitting on the corner of the bed, turned her face to Connor, her expression open and a little curious.

“If I had been sober, I would have been faster, smarter. Fred might be alive. I know there’s a quick way of sobering heroin addicts. I want you to help me do it.”

Willow’s eyebrows rose. “That’s dangerous.”

Connor snorted. ‘I’m half demon. I just survived a triple impaling on a cast iron fence. If regular humans survive the treatment, I’ll make it.”

Willow tapped her fingers on the mattress. “I want you to heal up for another few days first, Connor. It’ll traumatize your body less.”

For a moment, he thought about arguing but there was no point in it. “Fair enough,” Connor said. “Thank you, Willow.”

“You won’t be thanking me when we start this,” she replied cryptically.

Dire predictions of not, when Willow left, Connor slept more easily, happy with his decision.

X X X

“I was expecting something to attack today,” Buffy said, sliding into bed with Angel. 

He wrapped an arm around her. “I know. It would have been the perfect opportunity.”

“If Leda has any input into what the demoness is doing, she was probably smart enough to know there would be enough firepower here at the wake and enough anger to put them down hard.” Buffy scowled. “So why do I get the feeling that someone was watching us?”

“Hypervigilance.” Angel pulled her closer. “Or they were using magic to spy on us. It’s a possibility.”

“So long as they don’t realize we’re trying to spy back.” Buffy let her eyes close. “This needs to end, Angel. We’ve already lost too much.”

“I’m damn tired of losing people I care about,” he rumbled.

“It ends here. We’re going to stop them,” she said as if will alone would make it happen.


	26. Recovery Phase

Chapter Twenty-Six

_Though I’ve tried, I’ve fallen..._  
I have sunk so low  
I messed up  
Better I should know   
**_Fallen - Sarah McLachlan_ **

 

Connor toweled off, thrilled to get the reek of the last three days scrubbed clean. He barely remembered anything since the funeral and his decision to have the hard-core drug detox. The last few days had been consumed by pain, sweat and gastrointestinal distress. The shower felt luxurious, and he felt, not better, far too soon for that, but improved. His guts rumbled still, and his limbs were noodly, but he felt almost alive. Of course, the detox did nothing to curb his desire for a fix. However, he had something he wanted even more than heroin. He wanted to be the Destroyer, long enough to rid the world of one more demon.

That thought – so closely echoing Claire’s attempt to kill him – goose pimpled his skin, making him shudder. Shoving it off, he shaved mechanically, half asleep already. His body couldn’t shake the exhaustion. He wandered back into his room, stopping dead upon seeing Faith in the doorway. He grimaced. “My head’s nothing but fuzz. Please tell me I put on my boxers.”

Faith smirked, taking a long look at him, enough to make him nervous. “You’re safe. Sorry, should have knocked. Angel sent me to check on you.”

He raised an eyebrow.

She held up her hand, chuckling. “I know. They don’t usually hand me the nurturing jobs.”

“Half this team shouldn’t be on nurturing duty,” he replied, taking a pair of jeans out of the closet.

“You look like you’re doing better.”

“Yeah.” He located a pair of socks. “Anything happen that I should know?”

Faith shrugged. “That’s why I’m on checkup duty. Buffy’s at the school with most everyone, trying to see if they can get a handle on Leda and maybe mobilizing some of the older trainees. Dawn and the Watchers are downstairs and have questions for you. I’m here in case Leda returns to the hotel,” she answered his unasked question.

“Why do they want to see me?”

“You got them on the trail of something. Apparently, Leda likes to talk like a Bond villain.”

He smiled, shimmying into his jeans. “Good.”

“I like your tatt. Have I told you that?”

Smoothing a hand over his inked skin, he ducked his head bashfully. His long hair tumbled down, obscuring the view. “Thanks. Hey, maybe later think we can go to the courtyard and spar lightly?” He tugged a shirt on. “Very lightly. I’m about as strong as wet tissues.”

“You sure you don’t just want to wrestle me.” Faith hip bumped him.

He snorted. “After all my injuries, I don’t think there is enough blood left in me for anything fun.”

“I was going to say you look pale but hazy as my memory is, I remember you as always being pale.”

“That’s what happens when you’re the spawn of vampires.” Connor grinned. “Also, withdrawal is kicking my ass worse than you ever could.”

She cocked up her eyebrows “That sounds like a challenge…for when you’re better.”

“Let’s hope we’re here long enough for me to get better.”

“I have faith in our abilities. No pun intended.”

“Yeah but it’s different, fighting another slayer.” 

Faith scowled. “I wish I could say this was a first time. Buffy and I have been down this road before. At one point, it was me they were after, and I’d like to say I was wrongly accused but truth is I was fucked up. It’s a long story.”

“I’ve heard parts of it, at least the part where you ended up in prison but I’m sure what I heard was heavily filtered.” He made a face. “What I remember is you treating me like an annoyance.”

“I remember you being one, trying to impress me.”

He shrugged. “I wanted one single person to listen to me and take me seriously or at least acted like I belonged here.”

“Well, we’re older now. Hopefully we’ll all be better.” Faith started down the stairs.

Connor contemplated using the elevator but decided he should move more. Still, the steps seemed daunting.

“Do you remember being in the hell dimension?” she asked suddenly, pausing on the top step.

“Some. It’s still in pieces but it’s starting to come together.”

“That had to be horrific, all those years in hell.” She slowly started down the steps.

“Honestly, I never knew anything else. It was normal to me. It was home. Now if you sent me back to Quor-Toth after seeing how comfortable here is, that would be true hell.”

“I’m still not sure how you managed to get out of a dimension that no one should have been able to get out of.”

“Basically, I beat a hole in the universe.” He grinned, absurdly proud of that.

“Somehow that sounds about right.”

He snorted. “They didn’t call me the Destroyer for nothing.”

Faith wrinkled up her nose, pausing for a moment as trying to remember something. “They didn’t really, did they?” She eyed him curiously.

“Things there feared me. My actual title was something like ‘the bringer of torment and pain, the Destroyer’.” Connor licked his lips. “The worst thing in hell was me. I wonder though if I’m something like you ladies.”

She shot him a skeptical look. “How so?”

“Giles and Willow were telling me about the First Slayer who was partly demonic. Angel said my abilities are like a Slayer’s, maybe even amped up because I have a lot more of the demonic in me.”

Faith reached the ground floor. She twisted to face him as she left the steps. Her gaze sailed over him. “That makes sense. Harry is going to love you.”

“She’s the one who studies demons and hybrids, right?” He shrugged. “Could be interesting.”

“Ah there you are,” Giles called from the library.

Connor trailed after Faith into the room. Dawn, Wes, Giles and Spike sat bleary eyed surrounded by books.

“Faith said you wanted to talk to me.”

“I thought you’d like to know what we’re facing. What you told Faith that night.” Giles scowled and plucked off his glasses to absently clean them. “When you were….”

“I was impaled,” Connor finished for him. “I remember talking to her but not what I said. A lot of that night is just gone.”

“Probably not the worst thing.” Faith draped an arm around him, shaking him. “You gave me names.”

“Balam-Quitze and Caha-Paluma,” Dawn said. 

“It was the key,” Giles said. “They’re Mayan spirits, somewhat feline in appearance. She’s Caha-Paluma.”

“That makes sense with what she looks like but why in the hell does she think Gunn is hers?

“There was some sort of large cat spirit at Wolfram and Hart,” Dawn said. “It was partly responsible for Gunn being implanted with the full lawyer treatment. We’re operating on the idea that the knowledge came with a little piece of Balam-Quitze’s spirit. I need to find that picture we came across, to make sure it’s her. You saw her most clearly.”

“And Gunn’s Caha-Paluma’s mate,” Connor guessed, and they nodded in unison. “My question is, why allow anyone to magically tamper with your brain? It doesn’t ever end well, does it?”

“Not in my experience,” Dawn replied.

“As to why, it was needed,” Gunn said, startling them. He sagged against the door frame. “Joshua went with Fred’s parents back to Texas until this ends. He didn’t want to go. Feels like he’s losing his dad with his mom.”

“Sorry, Gunn,” Faith said.

He nodded. “Thanks, and to answer your question, Connor, much as I hate to say it, Angel was right. His idiocy joined us to Wolfram and Hart. Mine allowed them to screw with my head. I was tired of being just the muscle. I wanted to contribute more and took the deal the devil offered.”

“In other words, you were afraid you weren’t smart enough to make Fred happy, not with guys like Wes around,” Connor said.

Gunn glared. “You have always had a unique way of putting things in the most annoying way possible but yeah. Me and my stupid pride.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Did you find something out?”

“We think you’re imbued with the spirit of Caha-Paluma’s mate. That’s why she wanted Fred dead and was furious about Josh,” Wes replied. “You’ve been unfaithful.”

“Just perfect.” Gunn staggered inside the library and flopped on the chair. “Any ideas how to kill her?”

“Looks like sharp stuff will work.” Spike shrugged. “Sword, axe, that sort of thing. She’s strong and fast but not impervious to much. She wouldn’t need to be. She was worshipped once, not hunted.”

“Time to change that,” Gun grumbled.

“I’m with you,” Faith replied.

“But do we have any idea where we’re looking for her or Leda?” Connor asked.

“Buffy called,” Dawn replied, bringing over a folded thing: paper? Thin leather? Connor wasn’t sure. She wore white gloves as she opened it for him.

“They think Leda has found more demons to team up with, and two more girls from the school have disappeared.”

“You’re fucking kidding.” Connor clenched his fist, peering at the picture Dawn pointed to. “And yeah, that’s definitely her.”

“We thought so, and I wish we were kidding,” Dawn replied.

“We had a few others girls we were worried about, and we were right to,” Giles continued. 

“So now we’re fighting three slayers in training and assorted demons?” Connor scowled. “So glad I left my squat for this crap.”

“Ready to go sharpen up those sparring skills, Connor? You’re going to need it.” Faith smirked.

“Want to give it a try?” Connor swept a hand toward the stacks of books. “I’m not going to be much help here. It’s been years since I’ve had to research anything, and I was sadly monolingual but now I remember knowing Gaelic, Latin and Japanese so who knows with me.”

“Sure. You’ll probably regret it.”

“Should you be doing that at all?” Dawn asked.

Connor shrugged. “No, but I’m going to have to fight sooner rather than later so I might at least try to get some of my fighting form back. That said,” He turned to Faith. “I do mean let’s _spar._ No need to go all out. I know I can’t take you in my condition.”

“Or ever,” she smirked, “but I see your point.”

“And spar means no kicking me in the balls.” He held out his hands. “Yeah, yeah, I know Leda and cat woman wouldn’t hesitate but in some future moment I might want to use them again. Can’t you just see Angel as a Grandfather?”

Spike shuddered. “That is the most terrifying idea I’ve heard in years, and we’ve been talking about a gang of rogue Slayers.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Angel would probably be goofy and sweet as completely lost as a grandpappy.” Dawn laughed.

“Faith, definitely kick him in the nuts,” Gunn said, levering himself up.

“I hate you all.” Connor snorted. “All right let’s get this over with.”

“I’m going to go watch for a little. This I have to see,” Spike said.

“He used to be good,” Gunn said. “You might want to watch from a safe distance. He’s been known to be able to kill a car with a kick.”

“No fears there. I’d probably lose a fight with a breeze at this point.”

“Relax, I’ll take it easy on you.” Faith draped an arm around his shoulders.

Connor knew better than to believe that entirely. However, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. He got what he wanted, the return of his fighting reflexes. He could barely withstand Faith’s blows, but he managed to avoid the bulk of them and land a few of his own. He kept it up, beyond what he thought his limits were. Sweat poured off him. Blood oozed from various scrapes. 

Faith tossed him to the ground again. Connor sprawled back against the grass, panting. “I’m done.” He wiped his long, sweat-flattened hair off his face. 

“You did better than expected,” she said.

He harrumphed. “No, I didn’t but thanks for saying so. I don’t want to be the one who lets Leda or the demon escape because I’m not up to it.”

“Not everyone here fights. We all do what we can.”

Angel’s voice startled Connor. He sat bolt upright, and then spotted his father sheltered from the sun in the doorway.

“Fighting was what I was made for.” Connor regretted the edge to his tone. Would he ever be able to speak to Angel in a civilized manner? “But I know what you’re saying.”

“And I do think you did good for someone who’s as fucked up as you are.” Faith stuck out a hand and Connor let her haul him up.

“Thanks. Gah, I need another shower.” He tugged at his sopping wet shirt.

“I hear you.” Her eyes danced. “Maybe I’ll join you.” She slapped his ass.

Seeing Angel’s scowl at that, Connor grinned. “Save it for when I can appreciate it.” 

She laughed and pushed passed Angel. Connor tried to follow her, but his father stopped him.

“Connor, I meant what I said about fighting.”

He put up a hand. “I’m too sweaty to talk about this. Hold that thought until I shower. If you’re here, does that mean you know something about Leda or the others?”

“I wish but no. It’s daylight so I mostly came back for a nap.”

“Ah. Then why don’t you go do that while I’ll shower.”

Connor didn’t wait for an answer. He took the elevator up to his room, not trusting his legs to get him up there. The shower, kept slightly cool, eased his muscles. After redressing, he let his hair loose and wandered back to the library, braced for a conversation with his father. While sluicing off the sweat and dirt from the sparring session he’d rehearsed what he would say to Angel. He wasn’t surprised to see Angel half asleep on a couch in the library instead of doing the intelligent thing and going to bed and putting the conversation off. He wasn’t prepared to see Buffy there now, exhaustion deepening the hollows of her eyes. He hoped she had something to tell him but from her expression, he doubted it. Gunn and Wes had disappeared. Dawn, Faith, Spike and Giles were still hanging around.

“Any luck?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not for lack of trying.”

“Yeah.” He sagged into a chair, soreness catching up to him. His stomach flipped a bit, grumbling. Dawn left the room as Angel opened his eyes. Connor heard his unasked question. “Okay, Angel, here it is. I know you don’t want me fighting. Part of me doesn’t want me fighting either. I remember asking for a rest all those years ago.” Connor scowled at the memory. He’d been so close to insanity then, right on the edge of a bad break or maybe on the far side of it already. That seemed more likely. Angel winced. “But I won’t have much choice, no more than any of you.”

“I understand that but-”

Connor threw his hand up. “Let me finish! I know what you want, but what I need from you is to let me be _me_. My proposal is this, I will listen to your point of view, so long as you don’t harp endlessly on it. And I want you to set aside all your preconceived notions about what my life is going to be like. I know you have them. All fathers do.” He took a deep breath, ignoring Angel’s hurt expression, and plunged back into it. “But I can’t have you making my decisions for me.”

“He has a bad habit of that,” Spike piped up.

Angel glared, half rising from his seat until Buffy put a hand on his shoulder. “You do, and you know it,” she said.

“Okay so I’m not alone in thinking that,” Connor continued. “So please just stop that. I mean, has it ever worked for you?”

Angel opened his mouth, and Buffy raised her eyebrows. “The day you gave back,” was all she said.

Connor had no idea what that meant and decided this was not the time to ask. “So, yeah, give me your thoughts on things. I’m not even asking you not to be mad or disappointed if I don’t listen to you. If I’m making a mistake, it’s _mine_ to make. For all you know, if you’re not making my choices for me and annoying the fuck out of me, maybe what you want me to do might be a choice I’d make for myself. I don’t expect to get it right every time, but I’d be a hell of a lot happier without a ton of interference. Do you get what I’m saying?”

Angel ran a hand through his hair. “It makes sense. As you heard, I’m not good at not making choices for people. I’ve gotten better though.”

“You have,” Buffy said.

“I’ll try because I don’t want you upset or gone.” Angel’s voice shook a little. “What you’re asking for isn’t unreasonable.”

“That’s all I want. I can’t handle being pulled in too many directions right now,” Connor said. “Need to be free of meddling.”

“I won’t make any decisions for you. You’re right. I don’t want you fighting for any number of reasons from you’re not healthy enough to you wanted the fighting to end. You wanted a peaceful life,” Angel paused, wetting his lips. “But you’re probably right that you’d going to have to fight by the time this is all said and done. After that, I would like for you to find something else to do with your life but I’m not sure that’s going to be possible for you anymore than it was for any of the Slayers.”

“I don’t either. Frankly, I want the time to get my head on straight. I keep saying I’m not research guy, but that’s not entirely true. I wasn’t that guy. Parts of my head are still swimming with whatever Wolfram and Hart did to me but I did get through law school on my own. They didn’t do to me what they did to Gunn. I guess I could be research guy. I might like that, but I’m not sure if I can avoid a fight. Maybe I’ll have to take myself away from all of this, but I can’t worry about that now.”

Angel nodded. “Fair enough. I suppose this counts as the best of conversations we’ve ever had.”

Connor snorted. “At least no punches were thrown so it’s a step in the right direction. Do I want to know about this day you turned back?”

“He was human for a day until he decided I needed him to have vampire strength to help keep me safe.” Buffy rolled her eyes as Dawn returned with one of Connor’s hated protein shakes. She set it in front of him.

Hating to do it, Connor cranked open the shake and swigged some. “I have to know, Angel, before you were turned, were you the village idiot or something? What sort of genes did I inherit?”

Spike snorted coffee out his nose, and Buffy swatted Connor on the back of his head making him nearly choke on the thick chocolate crap passing itself off as a shake. 

Spike wiped his nose. “Yes, he was.”

“As if you’d know,” Angel growled. “I wasn’t the village idiot.”

“You sure?” Connor asked.

“Speaking of which, here, Dawn and I found this in the stacks.” Giles got up and brought Connor a book. “It’s a picture book to help identify some of the more...villainous of vampires, the ones who really proved to be an issue for the Watchers.”

“I would have thought it would have been easy to be a threat back in the day with just one Slayer.” Connor took the book.

“Some Watchers and witches helped out but you’re right. I didn’t think it would be helpful to your mental state to give you the books with all the things Angelus and Darla did,” Giles replied.

“Holtz already filled me in on a lot of that, but you’re right. I don’t want those kinds of stories, at least not now. Spike’s embarrassing stories are fine, though. You can keep those coming,” he volleyed that over to Spike who smirked. 

“No problem.”

“Please no,” Angel muttered.

“We tagged the book. You’ll find the pictures of Angelus and Darla between the book marks,” Dawn said. “And Spike, I want to hear the stories too.”

“Please no,” Angel repeated, burying his face in his hands.

Connor took another drink, saluting Dawn with the bottle before setting it down “Thanks for this.” He opened one page, and was glad he’d set aside the drink. His hands shook. He ran his finger over the page. “This is her, the one who called me her little brother when I saw her at Wolfram and Hart.”

Giles peered over his shoulder. “That’s Drusilla.” 

“I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked to have that confirmed. If anyone could get into your head and wreck the spell, it would be Dru,” Angel said.

“Why?”

“Dru is special,” Spike replied. “She can screw with minds, and she sees the future.”

His protein shake threatened to reappear as his stomach turned. Connor swallowed hard. “I...didn’t know vampires could do that. Wait, didn’t you tell me this a few days ago? Sorry, my memory isn’t so good when I’m higher than Pluto, and I certainly was then.”

“As a rule, vampires can’t do those things. Drusilla was special before she was turned, and you don’t really want to know about that,” Angel said hurriedly.

“She might come back for you at some point,” Spike said. “Not to make you nervous but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

Angel scowled. “Me either.”

“It’s been years since she first saw me.” Connor shrugged. “Maybe she knew I was too broken to be of interest.”

“Or she’s too broken to find you on her own. She’s mad,” Giles said.

“Oh good, an insane vampire. That sounds safe.” Connor snorted, and turned another page. His head spun. He imagined he could feel his color fleeing. “Oh...fuck. She’s real! I can’t believe she’s real.”

He tossed the book on the table, pushing it as far from him as possible. His mind transformed into a maelstrom, his breath stolen away.

Angel jumped to his feet, crossing the room. “Connor, what’s wrong?”

He couldn’t answer his father.

Angel picked up the book, glancing at a picture of him in Victorian clothing, holding a petite blonde in his arms. Both of them smiled but the evil in them all but oozed from the picture. “Yes, that’s your mother. Connor, are you all right?”

Shaking his head, he tried to find his voice. “You don’t understand.” His wet his lips, unable to continue.

Setting the book aside, Angel folded himself up, sitting on the floor in front of Connor. He rested a hand on Connor’s knee. “Can you explain?”

Hyperaware the whole room was listening to him, Connor wondered how much he could possibly say. Screw it, he’d tell the truth. Glancing around he asked, “Cordy’s not in earshot, is she?”

“She and Xander are still at the school,” Buffy replied.

“I told you that I saw my mother once. I’m not sure if I fully explained. It’s not...” He shook his head again. “It’s ugly. Cordy told me that in order for Jasmine to be born certain things had to happen, a sacrifice had to be made.”

“That sounds really bad,” Dawn said.

“It is as bad as you’re thinking, probably worse.” Connor rubbed his arms. Maybe he should keep his damn mouth shut, but he’d been holding this toxin in for so long. The abscess needed lanced. “Cordelia insisted the blood of an innocent was required or our child would die before ever being born. Part of me wonders why the hell that didn’t raise red flags in my head.”

“It didn’t?” Buffy couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice.

He shrugged. “A little, whenever Cordy wasn’t in the room. When she was gone, I had nothing but doubts. I wasn’t completely broken yet but when she was next to me everything Cordy said made sense. Part of me thinks my desire to finally have someone who would love me and not _lie_ to me overwhelmed any good sense I had but that’s a truly lame excuse.” His stomach twisted, and he pressed a hand against it. “And turned out to be just another lie. Anyhow, this woman,” Connor pointed to the book, “She came to me, said she was my mother. She was so warm, loving, and I wanted _so_ much to believe her. I did. I was going to let the girl go, to get her to safety. What my mother said made sense. I knew she was trying to save me but it was too late.”

“But you didn’t let her go,” Dawn whispered.

“No. Cordy came back, said I had someone in my head, and then after that...only what Cordy wanted mattered. I think someone else _was_ in my head influencing me. She knew my mother was in the room, and boy did she ever hate that. I can’t remember all of what Cordy said but she convinced me to do what she wanted and not what my mother asked of me. Even though I knew it was wrong as hell, I couldn’t stop myself. She convinced me my mother was part of a spell cast by Angel and company because you hated me so much that you couldn’t bear for me and Cordelia to have love, to have our daughter. I believed her even though I really didn’t want to hurt that girl”

“That would have been Jasmine’s influence,” Angel said. “Forcing your will to hers.”

“Yeah, I hope that’s true or else I was a really sick bastard. Somehow, she made killing that girl seem like the only thing we could do, that there was no other way. The other woman...my Mother’s hold was broken. Hell, this is the point where I broke beyond repair. It just took me weeks to finally self-destruct. We had a choice, and we chose to kill that poor innocent girl.” Aware of the silence in the room, Connor wondered what would happen now. There was nothing left of her, no crime scene to process to prove she’d been murdered, no justice to be done. “Stealing her away from the vampire that was going to kill her only served to make me feel a little better about it. She was going to die that night so did it matter how? Of course, it did. Maybe it was Jasmine pulling the strings, but at the end of the day, I helped Cordelia kill her. I hope to god she doesn’t remember that.”

“Not that we know of, and I’d think we would,” Buffy replied.

“I’m sorry I gave you that book and brought all this up,” Giles said, fussing with his glasses.

Connor held up a hand. “No, it’s okay. I’m glad you did. I’m glad that my mother wasn’t a delusion, that she was there, and that she tried. I believed in that moment she loved me.”

“She did, in the end,” Angel said. “She chose your life over her own, not something anyone would have thought Darla capable of.”

“And Giles, the book didn’t bring all this up. It’s been inside me, eating away since the spell broke, and I’ve remembered it all. Was it more magic fucking me up, making me do things? Did Quor-Toth make me psychotic or is that just what you get when your parents are vampires? I don’t know. Mother told me she killed because she was a soulless vampire and asked me what my excuse was. She was so angry with me, so heartbroken over what I was doing that I almost let that girl go. That’s when Cordy got in the way and told me what I was hearing wasn’t real, that it was Angel trying to take away my happiness. Cordy and I killed that girl. Later, I knew that Jasmine was killing people and still did nothing. I’m not really better than the thing stalking Gunn. Parts of this I remembered even with the spell still intact but bleeding through...these are the things that made me start taking heroin. Now I have to figure out how to live with it. I’m not even sure there is a molecule of that girl remaining after Jasmine’s birth, nothing that could be used to convict me or Cordelia. I don’t even know how to feel about that.”

No one said anything. Angel looked so distressed Connor couldn’t look at him or at the few tears rolling down his broad cheeks. Finally, Faith came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “If it helps, you’re not the only one to kill someone who didn’t deserve to die and go a little crazy afterward.” She glanced around the room. “Several of us have crossed that line, and that’s not counting things done while being a vampire. And okay, some of the humans who got themselves dead at our hands weren’t good guys but it was still murder, you know. This room could be one of the most fucked up support groups ever.”

Connor snorted. “Don’t know how to feel about that either.”

Angel reached out and tapped Connor’s knee again. “Are you okay, son?”

“Honestly, no I’m not but I feel...not better but at least maybe understood in this group. That’s a help but damn, I could stand hearing something good, even if it’s just another of Spike’s stories.”

“There are a million of them but give it a minute. Your old man is likely to open his mouth, say something idiotic and make you laugh.” Spike two-finger saluted Angel.

“Or I could fold and spindle you,” Angel said sourly, pushing off the floor. “I wish none of this happened. If I had been a better father, it wouldn’t have.”

“We’ll never know that. It might have been hard to resist Cordy no matter what. She’s gorgeous, and she had Jasmine’s mental control at her disposal.”

Angel grunted. “True. Speaking of pretty, all I’m going to say about this is, flirting with Faith is probably dangerous.”

“Didn’t even take a minute,” Spike crowed.

“You may be right, Angel, but it would be the best danger I’ve been in.” Connor managed a grin.

“I was going to be offended until you said that,” Faith said.

“I was going to say something similar about flirting with Dawn every time she does something nice for you.” Buffy eyed him.

“His and hers idiotic statements.” Dawn rolled her eyes as Lorne sauntered in.

“Was I flirting?” Connor shrugged. “Same goes for Dawn.”

“Thank you.” Dawn patted his shoulder.

“Looks like I walked into something heavy,” Lorne said.

“You could say that. Anything turn up at Caritas?” Angel asked.

“I wish I could say yes.” Lorne smoothed down his lapels. “I could use another drink or ten after these past few weeks.”

“Tell us about it,” Faith grumbled.

Lorne cocked his head, his red eyes boring into Connor’s. “Well, Leda and Amaya were planning to kill Baby Blue Eyes over there. Maybe if I try reading him, we might get a clue as to where Leda is.”

“We should have thought of that before,” Buffy said, leaning forward eagerly.

“We suggested it but never put it into action.” Connor scowled. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I know you don’t like magic, Baby Blue,” Lorne replied. “But it’s how I work.”

“You don’t have to, Connor,” Angel said.

“It’s not that. Well yeah I hate magic most of the time, but I was just thinking the last time you tried, Lorne, it laid you out flat.”

“I’m hoping that was Wolfram and Hart’s big spell.” Lorne crossed his fingers. “I’m willing if you are.”

“Big question here,” Spike interrupted. “Are you as awful as your dad when it comes to singing and dancing because I’m not sure I can handle that?”

“Hey! Spike, that’s not…okay it’s accurate.” Angel’s shoulders slumped. “I try….reluctantly.”

“I can dance pretty well,” Connor replied. “I can move but yeah, the lyrical Irish gene apparently isn’t in my DNA, thanks Dad.”

Angel snorted.

“I can try but don’t blame me if you end up unconscious and wake up to a migraine, Lorne.”

Lorne rolled his eyes, going to the crystal decanter set on the far library shelves. He poured himself what Connor assumed was scotch, probably Giles’s. “I’d offer you some but given your problems, it’s not a great idea.”

Connor held up his hand. “I’m fine.”

“Do you want a little privacy?” Lorne gestured to the full house.

“Nah, we’d just have to repeat it to them later. I’ve already admitted I’m not great, so they’ve had their warning if they want to run.” He grinned. “Gimme a second to think of some lyrics.”

“Maybe not “ _Hotel California_ again. It’s a bit too on the nose for this place,” Lorne replied blandly, taking a seat. His gaze focused tightly belying the languid expression of his posture.

“Okay. Got it.” Connor took a deep breath before he started. “ _From my father’s seed, From my mother’s womb, From my family’s mold, From a broken tomb. If I am assembled, By the sins of my father. If I am created, By the actions of my mother. If I was brought into being, By a broken machine. How could I come to be here?”_

Lorne remained conscious, but his expression melted into a deep scowl. 

Angel echoed it. He turned to Connor and asked, “What the hell kind of song was that?”

“I know I’ve heard it before, but it’s been a while,” Dawn said.

“It’s Abney Park’s _Twisted and Broken_. I’ve always been drawn to it. Guess now I know why,” Connor replied sardonically.

“Ah yeah that’s right. You and Haven really enjoyed those steampunk parties.” Dawn brightened. “Of course, so did I.”

“What is that?” Angel asked, sounding more lost than ever.

“I think it’s those wankers who dress up like it’s the 1800s but have ray guns or something,” Spike said.

“Oversimplification but yeah. And you used to come with that redheaded guy from time to time,” Connor said, pointing to Dawn. 

She nodded. “That was Sean.”

“You dressed up as what?” Angel asked, still obviously confused.

“Let’s get back to what Lorne saw,” Buffy said, looking somehow unhappy he remembered her sister.

Connor didn’t really blame her. It would just be too complicated if Dawn liked him. “At least I didn’t lobotomize you, Lorne.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Damn near, kiddo. Hate to break it to you but things are going to go sideways in a major way for you.”

“Well fuck. How exactly can it _possibly_ get worse for me?” Connor didn’t want an answer.

“Leda is going to take something from you. She wants you dead in the worst way.”

“I have nothing. Just you guys and most of you are an easy match for her. She can’t take what I don’t….” he trailed off, going cold. “Oh god. Dart and Tin Man. Night Rain would have pointed them out to Leda. She can’t kill my kids. I failed them all but those two. I can’t fail them too.”

“We won’t let her hurt your friends.”

“You can’t promise me that, Buffy. You know it as well as I do. They’re at risk. Leda knows Anne’s, right? You said the girls help out there. Hell, she could go there just to fuck with those kids because she knows Anne’s means something to you. If she learns my kids are there….” Connor couldn’t continue. He couldn’t handle the thought. “Lorne, is that what you saw? Do my kids die?”

Before Lorne could respond, the phone rang. They all stared at the old land line as if it was something out of a horror show. Lorne had read him far too late. Connor just knew it.

“Don’t answer it,” he pleaded.

Willow shot him an apologetic look as she picked up the handset. “Hello?”


	27. Faltering

Chapter Twenty-Seven

_I’ve been beat, I’ve been broken_  
I asked for a place and the world has spoken  
I was asleep, but now that I’ve woken  
I preferred my dreams. 

_I’m tired of guilt, I’m tired of crying_  
I’m tired of work and I’m finished trying  
I’m tired of living and I’m scared of dying  
But there is nothing else.  
 **Downtrodden- Abney Park**

Angel could barely repress the horror growing inside him as Willow listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. This day had been hard enough without whatever it was. He wanted to wrap his son up and protect him from the fate Lorne had seen. He knew it was futile but the desire remained. He understood entirely how Darla felt when she gave her life for Connor’s. Why couldn’t any of them ever catch a damn break? “Willow?” he asked.

She shook her head. “We’ll be right there.” She settled the phone down, looking close to tears. “Leda showed up at Anne’s with Selena and Tina.”

Connor went so white, Angel swore he could see through him. He put a hand on Connor’s shoulder fearing he might topple out of his chair.

“Did she kill my kids?” Connor whispered.

“No, she talked Darts out of the center. I guess Darts has a real problem with men. Leda sold her on the girl power thing. When Anne tried to tell her not everyone can be a Slayer, the girls roughed her up and several of the kids when they came to her rescue. No one’s dead but Darts went with her willingly. They took Tin Man.”

“Why would they do that?” Dawn asked.

“To lure me out.” Connor brushed Angel’s hand off, dragging himself to his feet. “They want me dead. I’m not sure I know Tina or Selena, at least not by those names. I’m not even sure Leda realizes I’m more than human. She might have seen me leap to the mezzanine so she has to suspect it. At the very least she knows how fast I move.”

“I’m afraid Connor’s right. She told Anne to have you meet her in Elysian Park tomorrow at midnight,” Willow said.

“Is Anne all right?” he asked.

“Mostly just bumps and bruises. No one was seriously hurt. Guess she thought it was easier to convince your friends to go with her than to hold them both by force. That wouldn’t happen if they killed Anne or the kids.”

“So now what?” Faith asked.

“Tomorrow I go to the park, provided we don’t find them first,” Connor replied.

“No, you can’t. You’re in no shape to do it.” If his heart could pound, Angel knew it would. At full strength, Connor could take on a Slayer of Leda’s limited experience, but he was nowhere near healthy. 

“I’m going.”

“I’m not going to let you-”

“Dad, enough.” Connor slapped a hand against the table. “We literally just had this conversation. You registered your opinion. Hell, I can’t even argue it, but they have my kids!”

“And one of them went willingly,” Buffy reminded him.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. I’m shocked Darts hung out as long as she had at Anne’s. It took me forever to win her trust. Willow’s right. Darts has huge trust issues with men. Her daddy started raping her when she was like five and started passing her around to friends a few years later. So, even as a vampire you’re a better dad than that, Angel. Darts won’t expect Leda to be using her as bait. For all we know, she’ll keep Darts around. It’s Tin Man who doesn’t have a prayer. He’s just a kid. I will not let them kill him if I can do something to stop it.” Connor grinned that Angelus smile, which made Angel’s blood go colder. “And I didn’t say I was going alone. I might not like magic but there are times it has its uses. Willow, Giles, I know something has been interfering with your tracking spell. Got anything that might interfere with their magic? Maybe something that will hide the fact I’m coming armed with a couple Slayers of my own and a pissed off vampire and who knows what else?”

Angel cursed himself for not thinking of that _himself_. He never could think clearly when it came to Connor. It was definitely a weakness of his. A thought flashed in his mind. “It makes no sense that she’s still after you. Sure, killing you might be personal now but what if this is also to split our numbers up? We follow you to the park and leave Gunn exposed so Caha-Palum can swoop in and do whatever it is she plans to do with him.”

“Mate,” Giles said. “The more I think about it, the more I believe she doesn’t plan to hurt Gunn. She wants her mate back.”

“It’s terrifying thought a minute around here,” Spike muttered. “Make sense though. That might even have been what Dru wanted with Connor.”

“Thanks for sprinkling those delights on this shit sundae I’ve been served,” Connor sniped. “So, do we bring Gunn with? Leave him here where the Sanctuary spell won’t let her hurt him and maybe leave some back up here too?”

“We need to work out the logistics,” Giles replied. “Better call Wes and Gunn back down here.”

“And some of us can go looking for Leda now. It will be better all-around not to walk into her trap in the first place,” Buffy said.

“I’ll go with you,” Connor replied. “And before you say I’m not up to it, Angel, I am. I can do this much at least for a little while. If it’s too much, I’ll head back. Besides, it won’t be dark for hours yet. You can’t help.”

“All right.” Angel knew when he had no chance. Connor was every bit as stubborn as both his parents. “But don’t push it. If we can’t find her tonight, you need to be as rested as you can be for tomorrow.”

“Agreed. If Leda had any sense, she would have set the meeting at noon on one of the park’s more isolated trails and remove the chance I’d bring you with me,” Connor replied. “Of course she doesn’t know Angelboy has any relation to any of you. She’d think I’m here merely for you all to protect me.”

“I’m counting on her not having a full picture,” Buffy replied. “Come on, let’s get started while the other’s plan. Will, think your spell is working?”

“Not as good as it should so she has to have at least one more spellcaster still with her.” Willow pulled a small ball of light from her pocket. Inside it, Angel spotted a kitten face. When it meowed, they were moving in the right direction. It was cute, girly, so very Willow.

“Good luck,” he said, wishing he could go with. At least he could help Giles and the others with strategy. He wasn’t completely useless so why did he feel like he was?

X X X

Connor stood outside the door knowing it was a bad decision. He shouldn’t have come here but sitting alone in his room – after crapping out embarrassingly early on the search – was an even worse choice. His skin itched, too tight for his body. His mind thundered with fear and need. Even though he knew his stash of heroin wasn’t up in the ceiling tiles any more, he had to look, to see if any had hidden away from the clean out. That’s when he knew he couldn’t be alone. 

It wasn’t particularly late but the Hyperion was eerily quiet. His footsteps had echoed when he hiked up to his father’s suite. Buffy – if she were home resting – probably heard him. If she had, if she were there, why hadn’t she come to the door? Maybe she was sleeping. Maybe he should just go away. He knew what would happen if he were alone. He’d drag himself out the front door and make himself useless to everyone. He couldn’t do that to Tin Man and Darts. Connor accepted he might not be about to save Darts but Tin Man wasn’t lost yet. 

He went to knock but couldn’t make his fist hit wood. What would Buffy think of him now? He figured the crack about flirting with Dawn was a joke to lighten the mood. What if it wasn’t? If having her lover’s drug addicted demon son hanging around wasn’t bad enough, now she knew he was a drug addicted murderous demon son. Would she want him around? Would she want him out of their lives the moment this was over? Why did that disturb him? He hadn’t planned to set roots down here, but the idea of leaving shot his desire to use heroin straight through the roof.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he muttered, knocking. To his surprise, Angel answered. “Oh. I thought you’d be gone.”

“Soon. I had a few things to finish up.” Angel narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Angel stepped back. Connor pulled the door shut behind him. He couldn’t quite meet Angel’s eyes. “I don’t want to be alone. I can’t get to sleep. All I can think about is Tin Man and Darts. The more I worry, the more scared I get, the more I want something to take the edge off. If I stayed in my room, I wasn’t sure I could stay sober. All I wanted was to go out and score.”

He braced himself for whatever Angel was going to say. 

To his surprise, he put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Sit down on the couch. I’m glad you’re here, but I am surprised that you came to me.”

“Giles and Lorelei looked so tired earlier and they’re older. I didn’t want to bother them. Faith’s out so I thought maybe I could talk to Buffy a little.”

Angel’s expression grew more baffled. “She’s still out.”

“Ah, okay. I know, you’re thinking me wanting to talk to Buffy is even more surprising.”

“A little. Would you like some tea? We have plenty here.”

“Anything but chamomile. Thanks. Need help?”

“I can handle tea. I’m pretty practiced for someone who doesn’t drink it.” Angel smiled, heading into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

“I figured Buffy might still be up and I wanted….” Connor shrugged. “I don’t know. After today I wanted to know if she still wanted me around.”

“You know she was just kidding about Dawn, right?” Angel peeked around the corner.

“I was hoping but that doesn’t change things.”

“Faith wasn’t wrong.” Angel came back and sat with Connor on the couch. “She killed a few people, though the first was a terrible accident but she was never in a good a place to start with. She had a pretty bad life growing up, not unlike a lot of your kids. Willow skinned a man alive. Xander cast a spell that ended up with a lot of people dancing themselves to death musical style.”

“I don’t even want to know what that’s about.” He ran a hand through his hair, letting the long strands ticking between his fingers. “Okay, so this really is like a murder club. I get it.”

“And you already know some of what your mother and I did. I wish I could tell you that it gets easier to live with but that’s the whole point of the curse those gypsies put on me. I have to live with all those murders.” Angel frowned.

“Yeah the curse makes no sense to me.” Connor made a face. “Well that part does. The whole part where happy equals losing your soul again and releasing the beast makes zero sense. Angelus doesn’t give two shits about guilt, right?”

“Try not to think about the curse too hard because no, it makes no sense.”

“But you’re happy with Buffy so how is this working out?”

Angel shrugged. “I’m not completely happy. Most of the time I was worrying about you and missing you.”

Connor snorted. “Note to self, keep being a pain in the ass. Then again as I remember it, I got along better with Angelus than I do you.”

“I’d rather not talk about that. It’s disturbing, and I was never sure if you weren’t just doing it to get under my skin.”

Tugging at his hair again, Connor almost wanted to let him believe that. It would be easier but unfair. “No, it’s just that Holtz filled my head with tales of Angelus. I _knew_ him and what to expect from him. It’s you that destroyed expectations.”

“And that’s unsettling.”

He nodded, digging his fingers into his scalp. “This is so hard. I knew getting clean wouldn’t be easy but damn, it’s hard. My healing ability is fighting off the worst of the itches and the gut churning crap, but it does nothing about the desire.”

A glum expression settled over Angel’s broad features. “No. I’m sure it doesn’t. I’m glad you came here.”

“Even if here was like my third choice?”

Angel shrugged. “Even so. I understand more than you think.”

Connor wished the feeling of coming out of his skin would stop but knew it wouldn’t, and he doubted anything Dad had to say would help. “Yeah I suppose having to settle for butcher shop blood instead of human sort of counts.”

Hearing the kettle’s whistle, Angel got up. “Hold that thought.”

By the time he came back with a mug that Connor feverently hoped never held blood, his hands were shaking too hard to take it from Angel. His father set it on the coffee table and sat back down.

“I put in some sugar. It’ll need to steep even if it’s bag tea. Sorry. The best stuff is hiding with Giles.”

Connor tucked his hands under his thighs, willing them to still. “Thanks.”

“And I didn’t mean the blood. Back when I was alive, living in my father’s house, it was tough.”

“Poor?” Connor didn’t know this history because Holtz hadn’t known it.

“No, not at all. We weren’t rich, but we were very comfortable. I just hated living with my father. It was his way, or no way and I couldn’t stand it. He made all my choices for me no matter what I wanted to do and everything I did was a mistake to him. I did everything I could to piss him off….” Angel trailed off, a horrified expression coming over his face. Connor beat him to the realization. “Oh hell, I’ve turned into my father.”

He snorted, and then smirked. “Obviously. So, Dad was a prick who knew what was best for you and if you didn’t do it, there was hell to pay?”

Angel narrowed his eyes at him. “Yes,” he growled. “Anyhow, one of the ways I got back at him was to drink and whore around. And I do mean _drink_. If I’m honest, I was pretty much an alcoholic.”

“Which means I could have inherited the genes that might govern addiction.” Connor sighed. “So many benefits of being your son.”

Angel shoved him lightly. “So, I do know what it’s like to be fighting a desire that you know is going to ruin you, but you just don’t give a damn. You want it anyhow because the feeling it gives you makes everything better.”

The last came through gritted teeth, tension jumping the muscles in his jaw. For a moment, Connor thought the demon would pop out but Angel calmed. Connor sucked in a deep breath. “But it didn’t ruin you.”

“Oh, but it did. That’s how I died.”

“You were drunk, and a vampire sneaked up?”

Angel wagged his head. “No. I was drunk, certainly, but I saw her clear as day.”

Connor hadn’t heard this part of the story before. “So, it was a woman.”

Angel stared at his hands for several long moments, and then gestured to the tea. Connor humored him, taking a sip. “It was your mother.”

He nearly dropped the tea into his lap. Trembling hard, he managed to get it back to the table with Angel’s help. “I didn’t know.”

“She was beautiful, like a little porcelain doll. Well, you’ve seen her so you know.”

Swallowing past a big lump in his throat, Connor nodded. 

“If I hadn’t been drunk off my ass, I might have realized no woman in that time period would have been on the street at that hour of the night unless she was a prostitute, and Darla had been far too well dressed for that.” Angel frowned, rubbing his chest as if it had tightened. “I didn’t even make her work for it. She asked did I want to see the world, and I did, so badly. I wanted away from my father’s house.”

“I know that feeling,” Connor muttered, like a stake to the chest given how hard Angel flinched. “And she did give you that in a way, a sick way but still.”

“She was good to her word as far as that went.”

Connor wasn’t sure he wanted an answer and was fairly certain Angel probably didn’t want to give one but he asked it anyhow, “Why did she turn you?”

“She needed me. Well, she needed a man as much as she loathed that idea. You have to remember that in those days there wasn’t much a woman could do. The poor worked themselves to death, often literally. The other options besides work houses and being a maid were become a nun - that’s what Drusilla was doing when we found her - get married or be a prostitute. Yes, there were a few others who trail-blazed but…”

“I get it. Mom needed someone to pretend to be her husband or something.”

“Close enough. In some countries women couldn’t even own property. Hell, they _were_ property, which was sort of Darla’s problem when she was alive. She might not have wanted to have a companion she’d pretend to defer to, but it was often needed. That’s why she made me. There is something between a vampire and their sire, maybe not as much as books and movies like to make it out to be but something. She knew she could mostly control me, and I didn’t want to leave her anyhow.”

“But you did, right? When you got your soul.”

“Right.” A distinctly unhappy expression shadowed Angel’s face as he squirmed on the couch. “But before that, we enjoyed each other immensely, but I’m sure Holtz told you all about that.”

Connor nodded. He didn’t want to get into that mess. “So, she was Irish too? How was she so wealthy or at least wealthy looking?”

“She was a Colonial so I guess she was probably English or Irish or maybe Dutch or French. It’s not like we talked much about that. She died in America thanks to a very old vampire called the Master.” Angel paused. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“It’s taking my mind off the cravings.”

Unhappiness gave way to panicked desperation in Angel’s eyes. “All right then. Darla made her living the only way she could.”

“So, I’m betting you don’t mean as a seamstress or maid,” Connor said, and Angel shot him a sour look. “So, you’re a drunk. Mom’s a hooker, and I’m a heroin addicted rent boy. We could make a soap opera out of this.”

Angel winced, shrinking in on himself. “I wish you wouldn’t be so…”

“Truthful?”

“Blunt.” Angel rallied a bit. “Anyhow, I suppose that sums it up and unfortunately for your mother, her mortal occupation gave her syphilis which damaged her heart. When she became human a second time, it was killing her.”

Connor stared. “Wait? What Giles told me about that was true? I was hoping it wasn’t!”

“It’s a very long story. We’ll be here all night.”

“Honestly are you going to actually find my kids tonight? Am I? If Willow’s spell hasn’t worked by now, it’s not going to. L.A. is too big to just stumble across them. Part of me wants you go to and try but a big part of me wants you to stay so I’m not alone with my thoughts.” It killed Connor to admit that, but he had no other options now. 

Angel put a hand on Connor’s arm, giving it a little squeeze. Connor gently eased away, grabbing the tea cup. “Okay, Darla met me in an alley, and when I rose again, she had me kill my family.”

Connor nearly snorted tea up his nose at that. “Wait! You killed your dick father?”

Angel looked pained. “This is what I’m talking about when I say be less blunt.”

“My point is why is it okay for you to kill your father but when I tried it….”

“It wasn’t okay!” Angel broke in using a tone that said ‘you damn well know it wasn’t’. “And I was a monster. You weren’t.”

Connor wrinkled his nose. “You always say that. How the hell can you be so sure what I am? Your first thought was I’d be a monster. Remember, Cordelia told me that.”

“To mess with your head, Connor. And yes, at first, we were terrified of that. But you must understand, Darla could feel your soul. It was driving her insane.” Angel clamped his jaw shut. Connor knew there was more to that than his father was telling him, but he let it go. He didn’t need to hear it tonight, but he put it in the memory banks for later. He simply sipped his tea, giving Angel an expectant look. “She knew you had a soul, a good one, and she came to love you very much as you learned.”

The tea went tasteless in his mouth, but he swallowed it down anyhow. “Yeah.”

“So, my family is gone, and Darla showed me the world. You already said you don’t want to hear about the stuff we did, and Holtz told you enough.”

“More than enough.”

“So fast forward over me getting a soul and leaving Darla and decades later ending up in Sunnydale where I met Buffy. In the end I killed her to protect Buffy.”

“So Giles and Wes didn’t lie to me. You killed Mom.”

“She gave me no choice.”

“But this was before I was born.”

“By a few years, yes. Wolfram and Hart brought her back to life as a human.” Angel put up a hand as Connor started to question him. “Let’s leave why and how for another night you need a distraction. Darla was human again, but she was dying. Nothing we did could save her, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be human. She had Drusilla turn her a second time.”

“So, let me get this straight because I started to tune it out when Giles and Wes were telling it to me because it was freaking me out so bad. Both of my parents gave up their second chance at humanity?” It was too much to handle. He had no idea how to process this. “I’m beginning to think I’m the product of two idiots.”

“Blunt.”

“Fine, two screw ups.”

Angel glared but said, “Fair enough. She died the second…or fourth time however you want to look at it when you were born. She chose your life over hers.”

Even though he was aware of that truth, it still stole his breath. “I know.”

“I wish it was a prettier family story.”

Connor shrugged. “Now I feel like I fit in with my kids. There’s too much ugliness in the world.”

“There’s beauty too, all around if we just look for it.” 

“I know but sometimes it’s hard to see it.”

Angel sighed. “It is.”

Finishing off the tea, Connor put it on the table. “I shouldn’t keep you any longer.”

“I could stay. Are you feeling okay?”

“Better actually. I think I’ll be all right now. I’m going to try and get some sleep. If not, I guess I’ll wake someone up. Now I see why N.A. has sponsors willing to have you call them any time. Nights are the hardest.”

“If nothing else, I’m mostly up at night. Here.” Angel walked over to the desk in the corner and wrote something on a note pad. “My cell phone since I’m likely to be out at night if you’re struggling not to use. Call if you need to. If I don’t answer, I’m probably kicking something’s ass.”

Connor laughed, accepting the note. “Just don’t panic and call me. If I get some sleep, I’ll be okay for the night but if I can’t, I’ll call. I’m not going to use tonight. You have my word on that.”

“You’ve always been good for your word.”

“I try. Thanks, Dad for everything.”

Angel glowed as bright as the sun that could kill him. “Always.”

“Good luck and good night.”

Connor returned to his room, feeling honestly better despite the disturbing family history. In a way, he felt like he finally truly fit in. He undressed and got into bed. Ratter jumped on the mattress and curled up next to him. He rested a hand on her soft fur, comforted. Sleep met him half way.


	28. The trouble with being bait

Chapter Twenty-Eight

_So take this night_  
Wrap it around me like a sheet  
I know I’m not forgiven  
But I need a place to sleep  
So take this night  
And lay me down on the street  
I know I’m not forgiven  
But I hope that I’ll be given  
Some peace  
 **This Night – Black Lab**

Connor couldn’t see anyone in the vicinity. His mind flashed back to a conversation with Faith early when he had suited up to go be bait. They had sparred a little but this time he didn’t shower. She objected, and he pointed out that street people didn’t smell great. Leda had certain expectations of him. She was still looking for Angelboy and in his ragged clothing, that crappy coat and a stale smell, he planned to give him to her. 

However, he regretted the no-shower thing. He could barely smell over his own stink. How had he managed this in Quor-Toth when bathing was more of a monthly thing? Angelboy hadn’t needed a sense of smell but Connor did. Oh well, at least Buffy, Faith, Angel, Gunn and Willow were hiding nearby cloaked by one of Willow’s spells but they weren’t as close as maybe he’d like them to be. Southern California’s dry, hot weather didn’t allow for the deep, densely packed forests he’d seen in his travels. They were nothing like Central Park. He’d loved hiking there when he lived in New York, or better yet getting out to the Finger Lakes area. Here there were a few pines, small and spotty over the landscape. Mostly it was palm trees which were hardly ideal for hiding behind, which was probably why Leda had chosen this place.

 

He was glad the coat had been cleaned and deloused or whatever had been done to it. It had never looked as good as it did now. At least he could easily hide a short sword and small axe in its voluminous folds. He had them wrapped so they wouldn’t clink because he had no idea who or what Leda would bring with her.

Connor hated himself for prioritizing his kids in his head. Tin Man headed the list of who to save. Darts had left willingly. She might not want to come with him. He didn’t know if he could convince her. If it came to her life or Tin Man’s, well she had made her choice, but it would kill him to lose her too.

Connor took a deep breath in. Somewhere a Eucalyptus scented the air along with the piney odor of evergreens mingled with the near-vanilla perfume of their bark. The palms smelled musty like forgotten grass clippings. He rarely came to the parks this late at night. It always seemed like borrowing trouble. It felt a little like the mountainous regions of Quor-Toth. He’d always liked it there. Maybe he’d move up to Portland or Seattle once he was clean. Maybe he would just get away from all the fighting and killing. Nah, there were probably all the same sorts of monsters there as there were in L.A. 

Still, maybe he’d end up a Watcher or something like one. He’d like it in the Columbia Gorge area where he could hike out into true woods. In the day time. Maybe. Sighing softly, Connor refocused his mind. If he let it wander now, Leda would make it so he never had the opportunity to find out if he’d like living in a temperate rainforest.

Hearing the creak of wood, Connor tensed. It wasn’t a natural sound. There was something mechanical about it. Connor jumped just as he heard the twang of a crossbow. The bolt whizzed past his shoulder. He heard a curse at the same time he heard Darts cry out, “Why are you trying to kill him? Angelboy’s okay!” Tin Man simply screamed his name.

“How the hell did you miss, Leda? You had him dead-on,” one of the other girls said, pulling out of the shadows. Her hair was a poof of cotton candy pink. She had a stake in one hand and a switchblade in the other. 

The stake chilled him more. They knew he wasn’t a vampire, and that a stake would be a painful way to kill him. They obviously didn’t care.

Darts followed a different young woman, so pale she practically glowed. Darts was all but dragging Tin Man. “Leda, please,” Darts said. “What’s going on? You said you were bringing us here because Angelboy needed us to leave Anne’s, that it wasn’t safe.”

“Please, Darts, let me go. We have to help Angelboy,” Tin Man said. He yanked free of her only to spin around to find Leda behind him. The pale girl whipped around, grabbing for him.

Tin Man avoided her, reaching for the crossbow before Leda could reload it. “Why do you want to hurt, Angelboy? I’m not gonna let you!”

Leda laughed and backhanded him so hard, Tin Man flew several feet, slamming into a tree. He crumpled to the ground, not moving. Darts shrieked. 

“Like you can stop me, little boy,” Leda said.

“He can’t, but I can,” Connor said, stalking closer, keeping an eye on all three of the Slayers-in-Training. He didn’t know exactly where his back up was, but he wanted Leda’s head. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“And you think you’re a match for me,” Leda taunted him. “A piece of junkie whore trash.”

“Angelboy, what’s happening?” Darts begged.

“Something bad. She’s Night Rain’s friend, and for some reason, they want me dead,” Connor said, wondering if he’d need the weapons at all. Pale girl and the cotton candy haired one seemed hesitant as if realizing for the first time what they had signed on to do. “God knows why.”

“For the fun of it but you didn’t want to cooperate by staying in your place,” Leda growled. “Amaya had it planned out so nicely too.”

“Darts, get away from them,” Connor said, tensing. 

Leda swung the crossbow like a bat. It struck Darts’ head with a sickening crunch and she collapsed. With surprising speed, Leda loaded the crossbow and fired it at him. Connor caught the bolt mid-air, breaking it. He threw it to the ground as Leda gaped.

“What the hell _are _you?”__

__“A junkie whore piece of trash, remember?” He snarled, trying not to look for his back up. Where the hell were they? And was it too late? Darts and Tin Man could both be dead. “And you hurt my friends. Now, I have to hurt you.”_ _

__“Think you can?” Cotton-candy hair jeered. “You’re alone, and we’re nothing you’ve ever dreamed of.”_ _

__“Little Slayer Wanna-Bes?” He smirked as their eyes went wide. “Yeah, well I’ve gone toe to toe with the real deal, and I’m still standing. Where’s your demon buddy? I don’t see her or am I the distraction while she goes to the hotel?”_ _

__“He knows the plan,” the pale girl hissed._ _

__“Shut up, Tina,” Leda snapped._ _

__“How about you all shut up?” Connor leapt at her but Tina stepped between them. It didn’t matter to him. He pulled his punch, nightmare images of putting his fist through Jasmine’s head flashed in his mind’s eye. Still, it flattened her, leaving Tina moaning in the grass next to Darts._ _

__All hell broke loose. His companions finally exploded out of the underbrush. Leda tried to stab him with the stake. He caught her arm, breaking it. She shrieked, stumbling back. She pulled a knife in her other hand, plunging it forward._ _

__“Don’t make me kill you,” he said, seeing Angel coming up behind her. Connor knew that killing all three might happen. He had heard them talking about magic that would inhibit the Slayer ability but no one knew if it was a long term solution. Could people like Leda and the others be rehabilitated. Psychopaths were broken in a fundamental way, right?_ _

__“Like you could.”_ _

__Before Angel could get to her and finish this, because he had no doubts Angel would take that burden away from Buffy and Faith and from him for that matter, Connor kicked her hopefully around the diaphragm without stopping her heart. She went down like a sack of rocks. Buffy fell on her with shackles in hand. They at least had three sets. Maybe no one had to die. Realizing the three girls were subdued, Connor knelt down, feeling for Dart’s pulse. He could barely locate it._ _

__“Willow!” he bellowed. “She’s still alive but…I don’t think she’s hanging on.”_ _

__Willow nudged him out of the way, kneeling down next to Darts. She glanced up at Buffy. “I’m going to need to call for an ambulance. You, Faith and Angel need to get the girls out of here.”_ _

__“Okay,” Buffy said as Connor raced over to check on Tin Man. He was still breathing and his pulse stronger than Darts._ _

__“He’s still alive too. You all waited too long,” he said._ _

__“We didn’t think she would turn on Darts,” Faith said, dragging Tina to her feet._ _

__“All this to get you all away from me,” Gunn said, helping Faith with the shackled, barely conscious girl._ _

__Connor knew no one at all was left in the hotel. The others were at the school instead in case the demon went there looking for Gunn or just to wreak havoc. He made room for Willow at Tin Man’s side, holding his tongue as she examined the boy. Finally, he said, “Will the hospital even treat them? They have no money.”_ _

__“Don’t worry about that, Connor. The hospitals have to treat a patient, and we’ll deal with the rest later. I’m calling our private ambulances, and they’ll be going to the Watcher’s hospital. I’ll be working on them,” Willow promised._ _

__“She didn’t know what she was getting into,” Connor murmured, glancing back at Darts. “She shouldn’t have to die because of it.”_ _

__Willow put a hand on his arm. “And she won’t if I have anything to say about it.”_ _

__

__X X X_ _

__

__Angel hated their miscalculation had led to this. He was beginning to hate the sight of this hospital. He didn’t want to think much about what would happen to Leda and her companions. They were the Watchers’ problem now. Maybe it would have been better if he had killed them but he could sense his son didn’t want him to._ _

__He found Connor in the surgical waiting area, his legs jumping a mile a minute as he sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs. Connor had his long fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee, a better cup of it than could be found in a hospital. Lorelei – sitting next to him – must have brought it. Angel sat down on the other side of Connor._ _

__“Any news?” he asked hesitantly, not sure Connor wouldn’t blame him for what had happened._ _

__Connor sipped his coffee before answering. “Tin Man…no, Niklas, I have to remember that,” he said, his voice so soft Angel strained to hear him. “His spine wasn’t broken except for a little piece of it.”_ _

__“A spinous process,” Lorelei supplied. “It’s a muscle attachment point. You can feel them when you run your fingers down someone’s spine. Hopefully it won’t cause him too much pain in the future.”_ _

__“So he’ll be able to walk. He has a couple broken ribs and a collarbone but he’ll be okay,” Connor said, his voice shaking._ _

__“We’re still waiting to hear about Darts,” Lorelei said._ _

__“I failed them,” Connor whispered, his face dead white._ _

__“No, you didn’t. They might be dead if not for you. The miscalculation was ours, and I’m not sure assigning blame is going to help,” Angel replied, gauging Connor’s reaction, shocked when there wasn’t one. His expression remained frighteningly flat._ _

__“Angel’s right,” Lorelei said._ _

__Connor nodded. “They’re going to be scared when they wake up. Mad too because they’ll know they’ll have to go into foster care from here.”_ _

__“We’ll worry about that when they’re on the mend,” Lorelei said gently._ _

__“I know but foster care just wasn’t good for them. Well, Niklas. I’m not sure Darts was ever in the system or just ran away from home and never looked back. I think that’s more likely.” Connor sighed, and then shocked Angel by leaning against his shoulder. “God, I’m tired. I keep fighting but lose every time.” Connor pushed his hair back with a shaking hand._ _

__“Connor….” Angel wished he knew what to say._ _

__Lorelei reached over and took Connor’s hand. Angel was surprised again that Connor allowed the comfort. “I wouldn’t say that, Connor. Even drug addicted, you took care of a handful of kids, protected them from some of the worst Los Angeles has to offer, and only lost them because a _demoness_ showed up, and you didn’t know who or what you are. If you had known, more of them might be alive but that is not your fault. And look at yourself. You’re exhausted and heartsick but you’re still here fighting for them.”_ _

__Connor smiled wanly even as his eyes glistened. Angel didn’t blame him. He felt a little misty after that speech._ _

__“Thanks. It’s just…Niklas is such a good kid. He’s smart too. It’s not his fault his father was an abusive homophobe.” He squeezed Lorelei’s hand until he saw her grimace. “His foster family wasn’t much better, multiple kids who didn’t like a gay boy around. He’d be furious if he knew I told you but, I know you’d understand, Lorelei. I don’t know the whole story but at least one of the foster brothers raped him because you know gay boys like all comers.”_ _

__“I’m sorry, Connor,” she said._ _

__“He’ll be terrified, and I won’t be able to help him anymore.”_ _

__Angel put a hand on Connor’s arm. “I am not going to lie and say you can still help him but it doesn’t have to go badly either. There are options and we have time. Lorelei’s right, you’ve been the best big brother to them you could have.”_ _

__“Thanks,” Connor muttered. He sighed. “I’m not sure I ever felt like I was at the time. I always felt…still an outsider. Ironic, right? Many of the ones staying with me came from such dysfunctional, horrible homes and I didn’t.”_ _

__“I did throw you out of the hotel a time or two, and we came to blows all too often,” Angel reminded him. What the hell was he thinking?_ _

__Connor snorted. “But I didn’t know that thanks to the spell. I had a great family who were dicks about mental health.” He shrugged. “So they let me down. None of my three fathers were as bad as Darts’ and Tin Man’s. In case you ever worried about that, Angel. Holtz had every reason to hurt me after you turned his kid and force him to kill her.”_ _

__Angel screwed his eyes shut at the memory. “I can never be sorry enough about that. But you’re right, I wondered and worried.”_ _

__“Holtz never touched me. Yeah he was rough and tough, training me to fight but he never beat me or raped me or anything like that. All he did was fill me with a generalized hatred of vampires and very specifically for you. For the most part, hating vampires was good advice.”_ _

__Angel smiled. “True. He loved you. I know he never planned on having feelings for you, took him by surprise. He did, just not enough to forgo tricking you into thinking I murdered him. Your fathers have a bad habit of not being particularly honest with you.”_ _

__“Nothing I don’t already know.”_ _

__“I plan to keep that in the past. So believe me when I say I am proud of how you’ve protected those kids, and that maybe we can find better options than putting them back into a system they’re frightened of but for now, they have to recuperate. There’s time,” Angel said._ _

__“And there’s Willow.” Lorelei pointed down the hall._ _

__Seeing the expression on her face, Angel put an arm around Connor’s shoulder, holding him closer. His son was just too damn thin. He felt like a little bird. “Willow?”_ _

__Willow stopped in front of them, her usually bright eyes, tired. “She’s out of surgery but not out of the woods. Sorry, Connor. Leda inflicted a depressed skull fracture. Splinters of bone entered her brain. We have them out but her brain is swelling. She could recover but right now, she’s in a coma.”_ _

__Connor nodded dully. “Thank you for all you’ve done, Willow. I get that she could still die but I know everyone tried. This is Leda’s fault. What happens to her now?”_ _

__“Leave it as ‘the Watchers will deal with her’,” Angel said, thinking it might have been easier if Leda was just dead._ _

__“You should go get some rest now, Connor,” Lorelei said. “There’s nothing more you can do here.”_ _

__“And I should get back out there,” Angel said, not wanting to leave Connor alone. “If you’re okay.”_ _

__Connor waggled his empty coffee cup. “Lorelei gave me sugar. That helps. I’ll be okay. You don’t need to babysit me. That demon is still out there.”_ _

__“She was at the hotel, as we suspected she might be. We caught her on camera but she left once she realized it was empty,” Angel said. “But if you need me, I can stay.”_ _

__“No, go. You’ll be more useful there. Willow, is there another bed in Tin Man’s room? I can stay there, be around when he wakes up. It might help to keep him from freaking out,” Connor said._ _

__Willow glanced over at Lorelei who nodded. “Sure. I’ll have the nurses make it up for you.”_ _

__“Good because I’m half afraid this place will be the next target. Caha-Paluma followed me around for some time, and I’ve been here enough times that she might come back. In spite of the spell, she did attack the hotel. Slayers aren’t affected like I am by the spell.”_ _

__“Not a comforting thought. I’m going to go back to see how Darts is doing now that they have her in ICU. Let’s get you set up with Niklas,” Willow replied._ _

__Connor got up. “Thanks, Lorelei, for sitting with me. You too, Dad. I want in on whatever planning you guys have going on to catch the demoness. But tell me in the morning.”_ _

__Angel stood. “Goodnight, son.”_ _

__He watched Connor follow Willow down the corridor._ _

__Lorelei put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s doing better than you probably think, Angel.”_ _

__Relief flooded him at that. “I just hope it’s enough.”_ _


	29. Still Bait

Chapter Twenty-Nine

_We’re going down, down in an earlier round_  
And Sugar, we’re going down swinging  
I’ll be your number one with a bullet  
A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it   
**Sugar, We’re going down swinging – Fall Out Boy**

“No offense, but I’d feel better with a few more of the others close by,” Gunn said, lounging in an office chair in Matura Hall, a building off-campus that the Slayer School used as a small Watcher’s library. It was a place that Gunn went to regularly enough. It was isolate and mostly empty. It made for a good place to lure the demoness where there would be less collateral damage.

Connor eyed him. “Me, too. I’m stronger than I was if that helps.”

“Some.” Gunn ran a hand over his shaved head. “I know there’s a chance Leda told Caha-Paluma who we all were, except you since she had no idea about you.”

Connor stared at the ceiling. “At least the others are up in the attic. Think she can smell them from here? I can’t.”

“Gross. I’m more concerned about what happens if you’re not enough to stop her.” Gunn lounged on a couch by a fireplace that Connor wasn’t sure would ever be needed in southern California.

“Sounds like you’re going to have demon sex whether you want to or not. 

Gunn shot him a lemony look. “And this is why Connor has no friends.”

Connor snorted. “Take it from someone who has had to suffer through demon sex he didn’t want, it’s easier to just let it happen.”

“I swear to god, if that’s the last image in my head when she kills me, I’m haunting you.” Gunn stabbed a finger at him.

“That’s reassuring.” Rolling his eyes, Connor flopped down at a desk. He didn’t like the idea of sitting around all day like bait. They’d be here until dark. Caha-Paluma had attacked in the day before so it was difficult to decide when and where to set up the whole idea of bait. Buffy and Faith along with Willow were upstairs waiting, hopefully hidden from the demoness’s sense of smell. Connor hoped to hell they could get down to Gunn fast if necessary. 

“I debated telling you this,” Gunn said suddenly. “Maybe it’s a mistake but like you said about that girl, there’s nothing left to even prove something criminal happened.”

“Are you sure you want to tell me whatever this is?” Connor wasn’t sure he was ready to hear this, but he was hungry for any sign Gunn might be ready to trust him.

“Not really but Faith was right about the whole sick support group thing. In my case, he wasn’t exactly innocent, but he was human. He’d have killed Fred, and she was prepared to kill him first.” Gunn’s chest heaved as he dragged in a deep breath. “I couldn’t let her do that. Do you understand me?”

“You wanted to protect her from having to live with that.”

Gunn gave him a sharp nod. “I didn’t though. Yeah, I killed him but we both suffered the consequences of that for years.” He pounded a fist against the desk. “It was never the same.”

“Maybe it’s not meant to be once that line is crossed.” Connor pulled his ponytail tighter. Maybe he should cut it off but he still wasn’t ready. He wanted to retain part of Angelboy because not everything about him had been bad. “If it was the same, wouldn’t that mean we’re psychos?”

“Probably.”

“Thanks for telling me though. In a weird way, knowing I’m not the only one seems to help.” He scratched his arm, unable to sit still.

“Are you all right?”

“Not really but better than I could hope for.” Truth was, he desperately wanted to be high right now. He was coming out of his skin with desire for just another taste of heroin. “Better than I was that night. I really am sorry, Gunn.”

“I believe you. Mostly I don’t blame you but a part of me does.” He narrowed his eyes. “It’s far too soon to work past that.”

Connor shook his head. “I don’t expect you to. You and I never got along that great to begin with.”

“You like to butt heads with alpha males.”

Connor wondered if Gunn considered himself one. No, obviously he did, but was he? Close enough, Connor decided. Maybe he was as well. Certainly, in Quor-Toth he had been, but things changed. He hadn’t known this world and lost some of his confidence. “It’s what I do. Probably ought to find better way of spending my time.”

“Speaking of that, if you’re not getting crapped out of a cat demon by the end of the day, what are you planning to do?”

“I wish I knew. For now, I guess I’ll be staying around. Angel’s not going to let me go, not all messed up like I am. I like Lorelei, and I think she can help me. Once I get my head on straight and feel like I can stay sober, then I don’t know. I’m still trying to sort out what’s me and what’s left over from that big spell.”

“Angel really wanted to help you, nothing else but that,” Gunn said, a protective gleam in his eye. “I’m not exactly happy about it, but I get it. Believe me, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for my own son.”

“I believe that. I really do but that doesn’t change the fact my brain is a mess of memories, some real some not. I have no doubts me being a lawyer was Wolfram and Hart getting a little payback for the spell. I’d have been working for them, earning them a fortune probably. I suppose I could join you in the lawyer pool there but I’m not sure I want to.” Connor got to his feet, starting to pace.

“I can’t say that I blame you.”

“Will you and Joshua stay now?”

“I have no clue. I doubt Wolfram and Hart would just let me go.”

“But you could just be a lawyer, live somewhere else in L.A. and be safer if they did let you go.” Connor paused, eying Gunn. “But I have trouble seeing you sitting out of the action.”

Sighing, Gunn nodded. “I know, same here but I have to do what’s best for Joshua. I’m just not ready to pull the trigger on any of that.”

“He’s safe enough with his grandparents for now. You don’t have to make an instantaneous decision.”

“I know.” Gunn grunted. “You’ve grown up a lot.”

“I should hope. I’m like nearly thirty, right?” Connor smirked.

“It’s hard to imagine it.”

“Tell me about it.” He resumed pacing. “When I was in the park, I thought ‘I really like being in the woods.’ I thought about moving up to Portland or Seattle or something. I think that’s all me and not something that got implanted. I’d probably have a burning desire to move to Ireland in that case or something. Granted, it’s beautiful there. I couldn’t complain about life if I were somewhere in Eire.”

“Does Angel know you’ve been there?”

“Not that I know of. I’ll tell him. He’ll get a kick out of that. But at the end of the day, I just don’t know. I can be useful here with the Watchers and Dad and the rest of you.”

“They have outposts like ours all over, so you could do that if you wanted to separate yourself from Angel for a while.”

Connor nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He tossed himself back in the chair. “I am so bored.”

“Tell me about it. This is going to be a very long day.”

Gunn wasn’t wrong. He and Connor hung out in the library until dinner time. At least they had it better than the women did – or so Connor assumed – having turned on a radio down low and they had books they could sort through and read. The ladies were stuck up in the attic, which he pictured as dusty, hot and filled with miscellaneous crap. Given how short tempered they were when they came downstairs, Connor assumed he was right. At least they were willing to drive to the hospital, so he could visit with Darts and Tin Man. They planned on picking up a dinner and retreating to the hotel to see if Caha-Paluma would show up there again. Connor wanted to spend another night at the hospital but maybe, given he’d just spent the day as bait, it wasn’t wise.

“I hated leaving Niklas here alone,” he muttered as they trudged inside.

“Angel’s been here,” Buffy said. “Keeping an eye out.”

Connor glanced up at the sun. “Really?”

“In the morgue’s office. We put a bed down there,” Willow said.

“Oh, well thanks.”

“Wes and Spike should be here by now too,” Buffy added. “We decided to keep Xander with Cordy at the school until this over. Dawn, Lorelei and Giles are there doing some work at the moment. They should be safest there. I doubt she’d attack the school. If Leda told her anything about the Slayers, she’d know that it would be a bad idea to look for Gunn at the academy.”

“True. I won’t be long.” Connor went to Darts’s room first, but nothing had changed. He talked to her for a few minutes before trekking over to Tin Man’s room. Angel caught up with him in the hall. Connor paused, looking at him surprised.

“I know you know the sun’s still out there.”

“The hallways are windowless. I wanted to see how you were doing,” his father replied.

“Uneaten, itchy and restless and bored and wanting to be high but otherwise fine.” Connor peered into Tin Man’s room. He was sleeping but the curtains were open. “If you want more info, I’ll have to go pull the curtains.”

Angel waved him in. Connor pulled the curtains but that woke up Tin Man. He smiled at Connor but pain lurked in his eyes.

“You came back.”

“I promised I would.” Connor pulled a chair closer to the bed, and then gestured at Angel. “You remember my brother.”

“Yeah,” Tin Man watched Angel warily before turning his attention back to Connor. “I hurt all over. Why did they do this to us? I don’t understand why Darts pulled me out of Anne’s. We were safe there.”

Connor reached over and took Tin Man’s hand. “I wish I had an answer. I’ll talk to Dr. Rosenberg and see if she can give you something for the pain.”

Tin Man eyed him. “I swore I saw you catch an arrow before I completely blacked out.” 

“You dreamed that,” Connor said uneasily. 

As a nurse walked in, Angel squinted at her and Connor did the same. Something was wrong, something musty in her scent.

“Who are you?” Angel asked. “I don’t remember ever seeing you here before.”

“I’m new,” she said. “I need to work on our young man here.”

Connor got to his feet. “What does he need?” He knew he wouldn’t like the answer. There was no way this was kosher.

“For starters,” She crossed the room in a flash. She grabbed the curtains, yanking them back open. Angel fell back with a bellow, smoking all over. “A little sunlight will help.”

Tin Man shrieked seeing Angel’s vampiric face as Angel scuttled back to the shadows, and then out the door because he would be of no help in this room. Connor hoped to hell he was getting Buffy and the other Slayers.

“Now you and the boy will come with me. Caha-Paluma would like to speak to you.”

Connor offered her a flat smile. “Yeah, that’s definitely not what she wants.” Without taking his eyes off her, he added, “Niklas! Shh, I’m not going to let her hurt you. I know it hurts but if you can get out of bed get out of here.”

Niklas shut up but Connor didn’t hear him leave.

“And you think I’m going to allow that?”

“Connor, this is a sanctuary, remember?” Angel’s pain-filled voice echoed from the hallway.

“Got it.” Great, now he couldn’t fight but at least she didn’t seem in a hurry to push him into it. A plan formed in his head. “You a mage or a demon?”

“Like I’d tell you. Now, you’re coming with me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

He took a deep breath, drinking in her scent. “Betting demon. What did Caha-Paluma tell you about me?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Leda said you were a junkie. What does it matter? You think you can delay me until a Slayer arrives?”

“Nah. I’m just looking to see if you’d be willing to settle for me and let the kid go. He has nothing to do with it.”

“No can do.”

“Okay, worth a try.” He jumped, not at her but at the window she stood next too. The glass shattered as he went through. He hooked an arm around her. 

The spell sensed that as violent, propelling them apart but not before he managed to drag her into free fall with him. Connor sort of loved this part, the feeling of weightlessness as he fell. His knees and hips all but screamed as he landed. He stumbled forward, and the faux nurse struck ground like a sack of potatoes. He still had the knife in his pocket he’d been carrying around all day, so he pulled it free.

She raised her head, no longer looking human. Long, bull-like horns framed her face and wicked blunt fangs protruded from her lips. A purplish ichor dripped from the cuts she’d sustained. Blood ran down his own legs but not a lot. He hadn’t torn out an artery with the window glass.

“What the hell are you?” her voice sounding rough and yet somehow lisping around her big teeth.

“Someone who’s getting tired of being asked that. Guess now we dance.” He grinned.

“Gladly.” She tossed herself up to her feet just as someone screamed ‘sister!’

Connor glanced around and saw another demoness who matched the one he faced off with. “Perfect.”

He slashed at the one he’d dragged out the window, but she proved faster than he expected for something that had crashed landed from four stories. She charged him as the other demoness thundered across the hospital grounds. 

He was too out of practice. When he was the Destroyer, two demons would barely make him blink. Now he sweated and tried to hurry the kill so not to have to take them on together.

“Connor!”

Buffy’s voice startled him, and the demoness slipped under his guard. He grunted as her horn dug into his belly. He kicked her back. 

“My gut has had enough of this impaling shit,” he growled, seeing Buffy and a twenty-something tall African-American woman racing across the grounds. “Buffy, they were inside Tin Man’s room. There could be more.”

“I’ll check,” the Slayer he didn’t know said, doubling back. Boy, he hoped she was a Slayer or a mage at least.

Buffy closed the distance between her, him and the two demons. She had a small axe that he coveted at the moment. He kicked one of the sisters her way.

“Don’t you touch my sister!” the one he’d defenestrated screamed.

She charged him. Connor grabbed her by the horns, flipping over her like a bull dancer from Haven’s art history class, featuring the Etruscans. Keeping a grip on her horn with one hand, Connor slashed her neck with his knife. Purple blood sprayed out, and he cut deeper silencing her as he bisected her windpipe. He stumbled as her head came off in his hand. 

Her headless body flailed about, and then convulsed in and out as if breathing with its whole being. She exploded, covering him with purple goo and splashing Buffy who fought nearby. Shuddering, she took the other sister’s head off with the axe, swinging it like she was trying to hit a homerun. Even more goo swamped them.

“Oh god, what fresh hell is this?” he muttered, taking off for the hospital entrance.

“Grossest demon ever?” she questioned, pacing him.

“Agreed. By the way, Dad got smoked a little. He’s alive but I’m betting he’s pretty burnt and pissed off.”

“Lovely. What did they want?”

“Me and Tin Man. Maybe Darts, I don’t know. I wasn’t in her room,” Connor said, hating he had no idea if she were safe. “I guess we were going to be bait to lure Gunn out. They think we’re friends.”

“Aren’t you?”

“It’s way more complicated than that.” 

Connor slid to a stop in the lobby seeing Tin Man trying to painfully jog and hold his hospital gown closed at the same time. Panic had his eyes rolling and his body shaking. 

“Tin Man, it’s okay now. You don’t have to run anymore,” Connor said but he didn’t stop. “Niklas, please, stop. It’s safe.”

“You’re covered in…are those purple gut chunks?” Niklas backpedaled, losing the hold on his gown. 

“I’m not even sure at this point.” Connor tugged at his shirt. “Whatever it is, it's stiffening up. I really want to take a shower, and then you and I can talk. I promise.”

“Your brother looked like a vampire!” Niklas shrilled.

“Yeah, I’ll explain about that too. I promise. I’ll go back to your room with you, shower there, be sure no one hurts you.”

Niklas edged further down the hall. “How you gonna do that if you’re in the shower?”

“I’m betting Buffy here has someone who can keep an eye out.” He nodded to Buffy who looked as disgusted as he felt with the drying demon guts all over them.

“We can do that,” Wes said, appearing from one of the side corridors. Spike was behind him. 

“See? It’ll be okay,” Connor said.

Niklas shook his head violently. “There are monsters here!”

“They’re dead now,” Connor replied, flatly as he tried to get closer to his young charge. “I will keep you safe. Have I ever lied to you, Niklas?” The irony was, he could be lying now.

“You jumped out of a four-story building, and you’re not hurt. _What_ are you?” Niklas said, backing away even further.

_Tired of that question,_ Connor thought. “I’m special, and I swear, if you go back to your room and go back to bed, I’ll answer all your questions. I don’t want you to hurt yourself more, and I have to check on Darts, too.”

“Willow’s with her,” Faith said, coming up behind Spike and Wes.

“Niklas, that’s Faith. She’ll stay with you in your room unless there’s still a danger running around here but I’m betting not if she’s here. Trust me when I say the monsters are no match for her.”

Niklas eyed her, still shaking. “Okay but I don’t want all that smelly stuff in my room.” He gestured to Connor’s clothing.

“I’ll shower elsewhere. Give me ten minutes.”

“Okay,” Niklas whispered.

Wes put a hand on Niklas’ shoulder, tugging the gown shut better. “I’ll go with you too.”

Faith led the way, and Connor watched them go as he beckoned Spike closer. “Were there more?”

“A witch. Willow and Pam stopped her,” he replied. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s been a crappy half hour. Where did Angel go?”

“Basement,” Spike said. “Your other friend wasn’t hurt.”

“Thanks. Can you send Willow to Niklas’s room? He’s probably going to need a sedative or something. And something for pain too since he’s running around with broken bones. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As Spike nodded, Buffy tapped Connor’s shoulder. “Follow me. We can shower in the doctor’s changing room and grab some scrubs from there.”

“And we should check the staff anyhow. That bitch had to steal the scrubs she had on somewhere.”

No one was in the changing rooms, no demons, no bodies. He retreated to the men’s room, showered until his skin burned from the scrubbing. It seemed to take forever to get the clotted crap out of his hair. Maybe it was time to cut it off, but he was oddly reluctant to even think about it. His belly bled heavily but seemed to be trying to clot. He jammed a towel against it before he dressed and headed upstairs. 

Niklas sat on the edge of a bed in a different room than before. He hadn’t thought about the fact that Niklas’s room was minus one window pane. Willow was trying to talk him into lying down. Niklas popped off the bed when he spotted Connor.

“I don’t want to be here,” he cried.

“I know but you’re safe here. The monsters can’t fight inside the hospital.” Connor went to put his hands on Niklas’s shoulders, but he flinched away, breaking Connor’s heart. “I won’t hurt you, Niklas. You _know_ me. I have always looked out for you.”

“I didn’t know you could walk off a fall like that. That’s _not_ normal.”

Connor sat on Niklas’s bed, patting the mattress. “Sit and we’ll talk.”

Reluctantly, obviously terrified Connor would attack him, Niklas sat down. “You pulled a woman out of the window. Why did you kill her?”

“That purple goo, that was demon blood. She was the real monster. What I am is someone who fights the monsters,” Connor said, trying to ignore the skeptical look Niklas flung his way. “I forgot that for many years. Drugs will do that to you, magic too. Not all magic is bad, and there are things in this world that look evil but aren’t. There are things that look angelic who are the exact opposite. I know that’s terrifying and heavy but me and all my friends here, we’re the best defense against the evil.”

“She wanted to take us away,” Niklas said softly.

“To be bait for another demon but they can’t fight inside this building so I had to get her away from you,” Connor said, not about to mention he was too demonic to do battle inside a sanctuary spell. “She was trying to take us to the same demon that killed Pan, Howler and Misty.” He shuddered at the memory, and Niklas curled in on himself crying out softly as his broken bones reminded him that was a bad idea. “Shh, Niklas, it’ll be okay.”

“You didn’t know she was a demon then,” Niklas reminded him.

“I didn’t know _myself_ then, because of some bad magic but now I do. I wish you hadn’t seen what you did. I would love for you to be blissfully unaware of the true horrors that are out there, but we can’t undo it,” Connor said, figuring there was probably a half dozen spells that could, but he wasn’t about to let magic warp Niklas’s mind unless there was no other way to bring him back to peace. “So instead I’m telling you the ugly truth.”

“And your brother’s face? Why did he look like a vampire?”

Connor sighed. Before he could answer, he heard from the hall, “Connor, are you okay?”

Angel peeked around the corner, his face blistered. Niklas gasped, bumping up against Connor. He put an arm around Niklas. Buffy and Gunn moved around Angel to stand against the wall. There were too many people in this room, and he wanted to yell at them all to get out, but they probably wanted to know what he was going to say.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” Niklas held up his hand, rogued with Connor’s blood.

He glanced down to see he’d bled through the towel and scrub shirt. It had leaked down the front of his pants. “It’s a little hole. I’ll be fine.”

Willow pulled him away from Niklas with surprising strength. She yanked up his scrub shirt and eased the towel away to expose the hole in his belly. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What is your definition of little?”

“I promised to talk to Niklas. You can patch it up,” he replied, noticing Niklas had gone green. He should have realized it would upset Niklas.

Sighing, Willow dropped the hem of his shirt and stalked out of the room. Buffy helped Niklas to his feet and escorted him to the bathroom to wash off his hands.

“I saw the blisters on your brother’s face,” Niklas called. “Sunlight did that. He _is_ a vampire!” He stumbled back into the room and sat next to Connor again.

“Well, first, he’s not really my brother. You know how your father is a cruel homophobe? Well mine’s a vampire.” Connor swept a hand to Angel.

Niklas’s eyes widened. “Really? That would make you a dhampir.” 

“I guess so.”

Niklas grinned. “You’re like a super White Blade!”

Connor mulled that over and laughed as Willow came back with some gauze pads that she slapped to his gut and taped into place. “Yes, I am like a super White Blade.”

“Are you talking nonsense? Did you hit your head in the fall?” Angel asked.

“How many Wesley Snipes Blade movies have there been?” Connor asked. “How could you have missed them?”

“And all the comic books,” Niklas said. “I really liked those, but it was hard to get them even before Dad kicked me out. He thought comic books were evil.”

“Blade is a half human, half vampire….well vampire slayer really. As for Angel over there, he’s an exception to the rule. He’s an actually good vampire but for the most part they are terrible creatures,” Connor said. 

“Are you saying he’s good because he’s your dad?”

“No, I don’t even get along with him much but it’s true.”

“I know you can go out in the sun, but do you drink blood too?”

Connor curled his lip. “No! I’m not vampiric in any way…other than the ‘I can jump four stories’ sort of thing,” he ended sheepishly.

“Here, take this,” Willow gave Niklas a pill and a glass of water. “It’ll help. You’ve had far too much excitement.”

Niklas took it obediently. Connor figured it was a sedative.

“So now you know, Niklas. I hope you’re not afraid of me.”

Niklas tossed his arms around Connor, hugging him tight. They both grunted in pain. “You don’t scare me. You’re a hero.”

“Not always but I’m glad you think so.” Connor patted the mattress. “Why don’t you just rest? We can talk more tomorrow. I want you to promise me you won’t leave here until I say it’s okay. They’re looking for me and you, so they can lure him out.” He pointed to Gunn. “If that happens, he could get killed, or we could or both. So, promise me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay.” Niklas yawned. It must have been one hell of a sedative Willow had given him. He stretched out on the bed. Connor got off the mattress and covered Niklas up. “Wouldn’t it be fun to go to Comicon? You can’t go as Blade, but we could find someone to dress up as.”

“I will try to make that happen,” Connor’s voice shook as he told that bold faced lie. He wouldn’t get that chance. Social services would take Niklas away from him. “Get some sleep. Someone will be around to help keep you safe.”

“Okay,” Niklas replied blearily.

Willow took Connor’s arm, hustling him out of the room. “Now that you’ve settled him, you’re getting your skinny butt down to the OR. Little hole my eye.”

“I can smell that it’s still bleeding,” Angel said, following them.

“Okay I got gored a little, but it’ll heal,” he protested.

“Son, don’t argue with Willow. You’re not likely to win.”

“I’m not arguing. I would love to have it fixed up a little, and I’d about kill for something for the pain, but I know that’s not going to happen.” He sighed.

“I’ll give you an aspirin,” she replied. “You told him everything.”

“Hope that won’t be a problem…or a mistake.”

“We’re going to meet up here and talk about what happened. You and Willow can join us later,” Angel said.

“Sounds good.” Connor wondered if Willow would give him one of those sedatives. He could deal with that right about now. He wasn’t up for another strategy session but if it protected his kids, he could suck up all this pain and deal.


	30. Trap Sprung

Chapter Thirty

_Ever since I could remember_  
Everything inside of me  
Just wanted to fit in (oh oh oh oh)  
I was never one for pretenders  
Everything I tried to be  
Just wouldn’t settle in (oh oh oh oh)  
If I told you what I was  
Would you turn your back on me?  
And if I seem dangerous  
Would you be scared?  
 **Monster – Imagine Dragons**

Angel drove one of their vehicles back to the hotel. Connor, slumped in the back seat, Buffy, Gunn and Willow rode with him. Wes, Spike and Faith were in the other car. He wanted to get out there and look for Caha-Paluma but even more of him wanted to sit at Connor’s bed side to make sure nothing else got to him. “Are you okay, Connor?”

“No! Aspirin does shit for pain! I want morphine,” Connor growled. “Stupid demon.”

“A Danleen,” Buffy supplied.

“Huh?”

“Giles said the exploding demons are called Danleens. So now you know what the most disgusting demon is.” She smiled. “Exploding is just wrong.”

“Agreed. A dead demon should just lie there so you can cut them into steaks,” Connor said.

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “That’s just as disgusting.”

“Seriously, dude,” Gunn said, looking over the front seat at him.

“What exactly do you think we had to eat in Quor-Toth? Carrots? Cake?”

“I was sort of hoping,” Willow whispered.

Connor snorted.

“Carving them up aside, maybe you won’t have to fight for a day or two,” Angel said, hoping that would be true. He also hoped Connor would shut up about the realities of life in hell.

“My guts would appreciate that but who’s going to be bait with Gunn if I’m not there?”

“I’m good on my own,” Gunn replied.

“If you’re sure.”

“We can cover him,” Buffy said, patting his arm. “You’ll do no good if you’re bleeding all over everything.”

“Listen to Buffy,” Angel said.

“Sleeping for a week does have its appeal.” Connor glanced out the back window, gazing back the way they came. “Maybe I should have stayed at the hospital then, just in case.”

“We can take you back tomorrow. The Sanctuary spell should keep them safe today,” Willow replied.

“Okay.”

Everyone settled down into a weary silence. Angel goosed the accelerator. He wanted to get everyone home, so they could get the sleep they needed. Once there, they dragged inside in an exhausted line. Wes’s car arrived just as Angel crossed the threshold.

Faith hustled out of the car, showing more energy than was probably warranted. Angel stopped in the doorway, not so much waiting for her as he was wondering why Connor was standing in the lobby staring at the ceiling.

“Connor?”

Connor held up a finger, his nostrils flaring as he drank it the air. Angel took an experimental sniff of his own.

“Everyone, freeze,” he said lowly.

Buffy turned, eyeing him quizzically.

“We’re not alone,” Connor said.

“You sure?” Faith drew a knife out of her coat pocket.

Angel nodded. “More than one here.”

“One’s her. I know that smell,” Connor said.

“How did they get in?” Willow asked.

“Something tells me that front lock ain’t hard to pick,” Connor replied, before leaping at Willow, knocking her down just as a bolt of lightning hit the marble flooring arcing down from the mezzanine. 

“Magic makes it even easier.” A man peered over the railing. A few more humans joined him on the mezzanine as did Caha-Paluma. Several demons boiled out from the lower corridors.

“Magic might work but you still can’t fight in here,” Wes said from behind Angel.

“Really?” A Rin demon sneered, lowering her ibex-like horns. She charged directly for Buffy, almost hitting her before Buffy punched her. The demon bounced up and attacked again without the Sanctuary spell slapping her down.

“They’ve broken the spell,” Willow cried.

“Looks like we’re a little outnumbered,” Faith said, pushing into the lobby with a wild grin on her face. “Just how I like it!”

Angel eyed the would-be battlefield, trying to plot the best path to the weapons locker. He didn’t know if the enemy had any idea where it was. The mage had jumped the gun, attacking before they were all inside and at ease. Maybe the man had heard him and Connor discovering the scent. It didn’t matter. They needed weapons, and he’d be the best person to bull his way to them.

Charging across the room, Angel swatted aside another witch mid-chant. She crashed into the wall, crumbling into a heap. Behind him the sounds of fighting echoed loudly in the high-ceilinged chamber. Angel made it to the weapons case, and he swept up an armful of them. That’s when a Marrell demon spotted him. The tentacled thing lunged at him, and Angel dodged. He couldn’t fight it with the armful he had.

He winged a crossbow and a quiver of bolts to Faith who caught and loaded it on the fly. Dodging another tentacle, he slid a short sword to Gunn and lateralled an axe to Buffy. Something slammed into his back and it burned. Angel dropped the rest of the weapons, rolling on the ground trying to put out the flames. He had to tear off his burning shirt.

“I have him,” Caha-Paluma said, swatting the sword out of Gunn’s hand. From the way he cried out, Angel wondered if she had broken his arm.

Angel tried to get to his feet, still smoldering, but the Rin demon found him, nearly impaling him. Caha-Paluma captured Gunn, dragging him toward the door. Out of the corner of his eye, Angel saw Wes and Willow trying to deal with Marrel demon while Faith and Buffy engaged a pack of little furry but fierce creatures. Where the hell was Connor?

 

Spike broke a chair over Caha-Paluma making her drop Gunn, but she whirled, striking Spike with her foot. He went down. Angel swore, knowing Spike more than occasionally forgot he was now a middle-aged human. Caha-Paluma scooped a dazed Gunn back up. Angel forced himself up to try and stop her. Another lightning bolt nearly hit him, making his hair stand on end. He’d have to finish off that damn mage.

Hearing Caha-Paluma growl, Angel took his eyes off the mage in time to see Connor tackled her to the floor. Damn, he hadn’t a chance to get a weapon to his son. Before he could try, the mage lobbed another spell his way.

Angel had no choice but leave Connor to his own devices, trusting even wounded, Connor could fight. He caught the mage as the man tried to scamper away. He slammed the man against the wall a couple times, and then let him drop just as Connor bellowed.

His heart falling down through the floor, Angel whipped around. Caha-Paluma had Connor on the ground, her claws deep in his thin chest. Connor twisted as she tried to bite his neck, but she connected with his shoulder. Connor cried out again. Angel couldn’t move, rooted to the ground, panic washing over him. 

Angel fought to overcome his paralyzed muscles. Caha-Paluma yanked Connor to his feet shaking her head like a lioness trying to break her prey’s neck. Suddenly she let him go yowling. Connor hit ground as a sword tore through her chest. Gunn forced it deep to the hilt. She swung her elbow back catching him in the face, dropping him. She flopped down onto top of Connor, clawing at her back trying to get to the sword.

“Connor,” Angel cried, breaking through the hold his sympathetic nervous system had on him.

As he staggered forward, Connor punched her in the face. A wet coconut breaking sound echoed as his fist crunched into her skull. Angel’s gut clenched as memories of Jasmine’s death washed over him, and all the horrors of what happened to Connor after ran through his mind as fresh as if it was yesterday instead of a decade ago. 

She thrashed in her death throes kicking him and Gunn, still stuck on Connor’s arm. Angel tore her away, tossing her aside. Her body stilled and began to smoke and crumble. Connor opened his fist and inside it was a small turquoise totem that resembled a panther.

“What the hell is that?” Gunn asked.

“Was…in her head,” Connor panted.

“Are you all right?” Angel said, trying to see if Buffy and the others were all right but not wanting to take his eyes off his son.

Connor coughed, blood spattering his lips. “Think…lung collapsed. Hospital time.”

“Willow!” Angel bellowed, dropping to his knees next to Connor when he saw his friends had finished off the rest of the demons and were in the process of containing the human magic users. 

“Checking Spike,” she replied. “He’s unconscious.”

“And I think she hit an artery here,” Angel said, trying not to think about Connor’s blood spurting out on the marble. He still remembered what it did to him when Wolfram and Hart had sneaked it into his meals. “Gunn, is your arm broken?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll call for our ambulances,” Wes said, rubbing a knot forming on his brow.

Willow nodded, racing over to Angel and Connor. She peeled open the tatters of his shirt. Grimacing, she took Angel’s hand and gave him the bits of Connor’s shirt. “This is a sucking chest wound. Use this to put pressure on it while I check the shoulder injury.” 

Angel pressed the material to the area hard and Connor groaned.

“Guess you’re still with us,” Willow said, poking at the torn flesh of Connor’s shoulder.

“Sort of ….wishing…unconsciousness good,” Connor rasped. 

“Angel, are you okay?” Buffy asked.

He twisted enough to catch her eye. “A little toasted but nothing bad.”

Connor made a noise that might have been a laugh or a death rattle. Angel couldn’t tell until Connor said, “Nice tatt, Dad….like it.”

“Save your breath,” Willow scolded. 

“Is he going to be okay waiting on the ambulance, or should we try to get him to the hospital ourselves?” Angel said.

“He’s tough. We can wait. The ambulance will have tools I need if things go sideways,” Willow said. “Buffy, want to help out here? I need to keep pressure on this artery too, and your hands are stronger than mine.”

“Of course.” Buffy knelt next to Angel taking another piece of torn shirt to use as a pressure bandage.

“Is everyone else okay? Wes, that knot looks bad,” Angel said.

“Might have a wee bit of a concussion,” he replied woozily.

“Then maybe….Faith.” Connor tried to raise his other hand to offer up the cat totem.

She took it gingerly and set it on the front desk. “I’ll leave that for the Watchers to mess with. You punched right through her head. Impressive, and I’m really glad we were only ever just sparring.”

“Always pull…” Connor coughed again, bringing up even more blood showering it out of his mouth.

Ignoring the tantalizing scent of it, Angel shot Willow a frightened look. “Willow?”

“Connor, stay quiet, please,” she said.

The ambulance wouldn’t get to the hotel fast enough to suit Angel.

 

X X X

 

A frightened gasp woke Connor up, kicking him into high gear. He tried to leap into action. The best he managed was a slight tensing of his muscles that sent pain through every nerve fiber in his being. He couldn’t even wheeze, his chest on fire. Connor managed a dull groan.

Fingers touched his, dragging his attention to the right. Connor managed to turn his head to see Tin Man had pushed his hospital bed against Connor’s. His eyes, barely visible from the light of the monitors on the other side of Connor’s bed, were wide, frightened. He was curled up on the edge of his bed, as close to Connor as he could get.

“Sorry,” Tin Man whispered. “I didn’t want to wake you up. I got scared when I woke and saw him.” He nodded toward the windows.

Connor slowly rotated his head and saw Angel sitting in one of the reclining chairs in the room. Buffy was next to him, but her chair was reclined, and she appeared to be out cold.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Angel said, levering himself up. “I’m just here to…protect even though there’s nothing I can do.”

“Is it…over?” Connor managed to grate out.

“It’s over. We didn’t lose anyone. You took the worst of it.” Angel cupped a hand on the top of Connor’s head, glancing at the monitors as if he knew how to read them. Maybe he did for all Connor knew. “How are you?”

The sarcastic answer of ‘how do you think’ died before he could utter it. “I haven’t hurt this much…since Quor-Toth. Nothing for pain there.” Connor shook involuntarily, only servicing to increase the sheer overwhelming volume of pain. His stomach roiled from it. Connor swore the top of his head might explode. The monitors beeped frantically.

“Stay as still as you can. I’ll be right back.” 

Angel hurried out of the room. Niklas gently squeezed Connor’s fingers.

“Wish I could make you feel better,” he said.

Connor wanted to smile for him, but he probably only managed a grimace. “They shouldn’t have put me here. You don’t need…”

“I insisted. I’m going to protect you now,” Niklas said in complete seriousness.

Connor squeezed Niklas’s fingers back. “It’ll be okay.” 

Would it? He couldn’t think it was true, but he’d been hurt before but only rarely. This hurt worse than when the Beast had done a number on his chest. He’d had his flesh torn before, but his bones almost never broke so why did his chest feel like it had been turned to dust?

Angel returned with Willow and a man Connor didn’t know but assumed was another doctor since he was dressed like one. Willow looked as exhausted as Connor felt. Her face screwed up when she glanced at the monitors. 

“Niklas, I’m going to move your bed, okay, sweetie? I need to talk to Connor in private,” Willow said, nodding her head at Angel.

He pulled the bed away in one swift move before Niklas could say anything. Willow yanked the privacy curtain closed, and Connor heard Buffy stirring. Willow’s fingers were cold as she touched his chest. 

“Connor, this is Dr. Solo. He helped work on you,” she said, and then murmured, “Don’t like the looks of your blood pressure.”

“I hurt too much…didn’t hurt this much at the hotel,” he said.

“We had to put in a chest tube to help reinflate your lung,” she replied as she and Solo eased him off the mattress into a sitting position, so she could work the hospital gown down. He gagged from the pain. Solo grabbed a basin from the bed tray and put it in Connor’s lap in case he puked. 

“I don’t…” Connor paused, tried to wet his lips but failed. “So thirsty.”

“No water. Angel, you can give him an ice chip,” Willow said.

“Do I have to sit up like this?” he moaned. “Hurts so much. Why?”

“You need to stay like this for a moment. Just lean on me,” Solo said. 

“And we had to break ribs to get the tube in, which was insanely hard. Not sure what is up with your bones. We had to fight hard to spread the ribs,” Willow added, putting a paper packet on the bed. Opening it, she revealed sterile gloves, which she pulled on, so she could take off his dressings. “Which is why your chest hurts so much, not to mention Caha-Paluma got her claws in nice and deep. She ripped up some lung tissue.”

Angel pressed an ice chip to Connor’s lips. His dignity died a bit having to be hand fed but his mouth was so parched he took the ice. The coolness made his teeth ache.

“But with the way you heal that chest tube needs to come out now. I’m going to lay you back down and get the kit so we can do it,” Willow said.

“Is it going to hurt?” Connor asked.

“It won’t be too bad,” she said a little too cheery for his tastes.

It didn’t take Willow too long to get what she needed. She came back in wearing a yellow paper gown with a mask that had a face shield.

“Sometimes you get splashed,” she said. “Angel, take a step back please or go to the other side of the bed so I can get in here.”

While she opened up a kit that had a pair of suture scissors, Dr. Solo took the wide bandage tape, cutting it into several long pieces. 

“Okay I have some gauze pads and a Vaseline gauze too.” She put the Vaseline one on top of the squares of gauze. “So everything doesn’t stick to the hole in your side. No showers for two days, maybe just one given how fast you heal. First I need to snip the sutures holding the tube in place.”

“Maybe I should go on Niklas’s side of the curtain,” Buffy murmured, and Connor watched her leave.

“Here go the sutures. You might feel a little tugging.”

He did but that didn’t bother him. Willow picked up the gauze pads with one hand while the other held the tube.

“Okay Connor, take three deep breaths in and out. I know it hurts but try. On that third breath, when I tell you, hold your breath and bear down. It helps to get the pressure up in your chest cavity so air doesn’t go in the hole and collapse the lung again. Ready?” Willow asked.

“Guess so.”

“Go ahead and breathe.” He did, barely able to ignore the pain as he did so. “Now hold your breath.”

Willow stole what breath he had been holding as she pulled the tube out. He gasped, shrinking in on himself. 

“That hurt!” Had she kindled a fire as she pulled out that tube? He saw Angel flinch. Connor rested back against the hard mattress panting. Each breath taught him more about agony. The monitors went crazy. 

“I do not like this,” Willow said. “We have to get your heart rate down.”

“He needs something for the pain,” Solo said. “That’ll get the heart rate under control.”

“I know. Sorry about this, Connor. It won’t set you back too far.” Willow pulled a syringe from her lab coat.

Connor didn’t have to ask what it was. He knew. He also knew it was a horrible idea, but he didn’t give a damn. He wanted the sweet release that narcotic promised. “Go ahead.”

“What? No, Willow,” Angel protested.

“It’s necessary.”

She pumped it into the IV tube. It didn’t take long to slink into his veins. Connor could swear the relief was instantaneous but that had to be his brain helping it along. It sank him down into sleep but before he went he could hear Willow and Angel arguing. She explained that with his blood pressure catastrophically high, he could go into cardiac arrest. The pain relief would help. His last thought was ‘she’s so right.’

 

When he woke up again, sun streamed through the window closest to the head of his bed. The one on the far side was closed, and Angel lurked on a chair that had been pulled into the shadows. Niklas had squashed the beds together again but now he was watching the hospital TV. 

The shocking thing was every part of him still hurt like hell. It didn’t seem fair. He also couldn’t help but notice Willow had not ordered him a morphine drip that he could turn up as needed. That was probably for the best but he could dream, couldn’t he?

“Ow.” Simple, understated, but it summed up the situation. 

Both Niklas and Angel turned to him, bright eyed. Angel got up but Connor waved him down.

“Don’t even try it, Angel. You’ll end up all crispy again. I’ll call a nurse,” he said. “Really feel like I have to go.”

“I think they have a tube in you for that,” Angel replied sheepishly.

“Well damn. Calling a nurse anyhow.”

“Good. Willow will want to know. The rest have gone home to get some sleep.”

“How do you feel?” Niklas asked, fidgeting on the bed.

“Like I’m sorry I decided to be part of that fight,” Connor said ruefully as he pushed the call button. “But a little better than last night.”

“And that morphine Willow gave you?” Angel asked uneasily.

“Felt like more is needed,” he replied honestly. “But I’m okay, itchy, wanting more but not as bad as it could have been really. I don’t think it’s going to be a problem. Even if it is, I’m not going anywhere. Between Caha-Paluma and Willow’s surgical rummaging, my chest kills.”

“Never thought I’d be happy that Willow had to fight hard to break those tough ribs of yours,” Angel said.

“If I could raise my hand without pain, I’d give you a non-verbal response,” Connor said, and Niklas giggled. 

Angel rolled his eyes. “Yeah I can guess which one. But do you feel better at all?”

“Some. Now it’s going to be a battle to not get too bored.”

“They have decent stations here.” Niklas gestured to the TV.

“That’ll help. And hopefully the nurse gets here soon because this catheter can’t stay in.”

“Men, always worried about that,” Willow said, shuffling into the room. Connor didn’t think she’d gotten much sleep from the look of her.

“With reasons.”

“Well, let’s get the curtains pulled and we’ll deal with that first. And Angel do you want me to get the one on the window while I’m at it. Breakfast will be here for you in a minute, Connor.”

“Pull the curtain. I plan to stay,” Angel said.

Willow did so and pushed Niklas’s bed aside before checking Connor over. The nurse arrived to help her with the stupid catheter, and while trying to ignore the burning pain in his dick, Connor caught the scent of breakfast. Bacon and eggs sounded good to him. Willow pushed the privacy curtain back.

“Healing at what I’m recognizing as your usual accelerated rate,” Willow said.

“Guess being a dhampir has perks,” Niklas said.

“Not many,” Connor said.

“Could be worse. You could be like those half human half vampires in _Van Helsing_ ,” Niklas snickered.

“Oh please,” Connor moaned.

“Do I want to know?” Angel asked.

“The movie’s worth it for Hugh Jackman but that’s about it.” Willow laughed, beckoning the aide in. “But I can see why it wouldn’t be Connor’s favorite. Let’s see how you do with breakfast. I’d like you to stay another day here, but you should be home by tomorrow. Niklas, we’re going to hold on to you for a few more days.”

Connor looked between them, seeing no stress in Willow’s face and suspected she was doing that just to keep an eye on him so he didn’t slip back out onto the streets. He’d have to thank her properly for that.

“Can I go down to see Darts later?” Niklas asked.

“Sure.”

“Thanks. Can she hear me, do you think?”

“It’s hard to say but most doctors think that it helps to hear a friend’s voice.” Willow eyed Connor. “Eat before it gets cold.”

“Where’s Niklas’s breakfast?” he asked.

“I ate already. Your turn. It wasn’t bad.” Niklas smiled.

Connor nibbled a piece of bacon. He agreed with Niklas. It was pretty tasty. He dipped the corner of his bread into the egg yolk as Spike and Gunn appeared in the doorway. Willow pushed past him with the words ‘I’ll be back to change your dressings once you’re done eating.”

“How are you two?” He took in Gunn’s cast and Spike’s swollen face. “Looks like she did a number on you too.”

“My head hurts but I’ll live,” Spike said.

“And no one will notice your concussed state of mind anyhow.” Angel shrugged. “You already talk nonsense most of the time.”

“You two must have been quite the act when you were both evil vampires.” Connor snorted, ignoring their twin glares.

“I’ll be fine,” Gunn said. “Once the arm heals. And thanks, Connor, seriously for helping me finish her off. Sorry you got hurt so badly.”

Connor waved him off. “I owed her for killing Fred, too, not to mention all my kids. Misty, Howler and Pan had no one but me, and they didn’t deserve what happened to them. I’m glad to help and you know me. I heal like a vampire. It might hurt like hell right now – and it does – but in a few days I’ll be fine.”

“When I’m itching under this cast, I’m really going to envy you,” Gunn said, brandishing his cast.

“Guessing you two were here all night,” Connor said.

“And probably had a better time of it than you,” Spike replied.

“It would be hard to have had worse. At least the breakfast is good for hospital food.” Connor took a bite of egg as Giles – carrying a bag - arrived with Buffy and Faith. Willow came back with them carrying another tray of dressings. “Morning ladies and Rupert.”

“You’re looking a bit better,” Buffy said.

“Could be better but it’s an improvement, still having more pain than expected. Not sure if it’s real or just in my head because of that taste of morphine telling me I need more to drive the pain out.” Connor made eyes at Willow.

She glanced at the monitors. “Your blood pressure is fine, but I brought you this.” She took a syringe out of the basin she carried. Willow injected it into the port in his elbow. Connor winced as it burned in. “It’s a high dose Toradol. It’s a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory so no worries about narcotics. It should help with the pain.”

_How fucking disappointing._ He tried to smile. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You might appreciate this too,” Giles said. “I thought you and Niklas might want something to do while you recover so I got you these, Niklas.” He pulled some graphic novels out of the bag he had. “They’re from the library so I can get more if you want. I thought you’d enjoy some Justice League and Spiderman.”

Niklas bounced on the mattress, grabbing the comics eagerly. “This is so cool! Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy them. I can also get you some games, if you’d like,” Giles replied.

Buffy eyed him. “This is a new side to you. It was all work for me.”

“Because I am your Watcher.” Giles replied primly, and then presented a few graphic novels to Connor. “For you, Neil Gaiman’s _Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes_. I think you’ll enjoy it, and a Wonder Woman.”

Connor beamed, taking the books. “I love Sandman! I haven’t read it in years. I appreciate this, Rupert. Thank you. So, any games for me?” He laughed.

“Don’t get him started,” Faith snorted. “He’ll crack out Dungeons and Dragons or something.”

“I would be so open to that! Given what we do, you’d think I wouldn’t like it, but I do, or at least did when I was in school.”

Buffy put a hand on Angel’s shoulder, leaning in close. “Did you ask Wolfram and Hart to make your son into a geek?”

Connor made a face at her as Angel shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

“It could be natural, you know,” Connor said. 

“Sort of my point. I would have said yes to the question.” Buffy patted Angel’s shoulder. 

“When you’re better, Lorelei and I can whip up a campaign,” Giles said. “Niklas, do you know how to play?”

The boy shook his head fast. “Nope but I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“When you’re a little more recovered Connor and I can teach you,” Giles said.

“Absolutely. Thanks, Rupert, seriously. I was thinking how bored I was going to be. This will help.” Connor patted the books. 

“Your kid likes Dungeons and Dragons, comic books, the SCA and Steampunk,” Spike said to Angel. “Guess being a wanker is genetic.”

“Tell me you didn’t make him a vampire way back when,” Connor huffed. “Because seriously….”

“Your mother and I took our eyes off Dru for ten minutes, told her just take the first drooling idiot that came along, and we ended up stuck with him,” Angel said, and Spike shot him a two-fingered salute.

“And Buffy, will you stuff that one in a trunk or walk him through a sewer or whatever and make him go to bed. He’s just going to lurk there otherwise,” Connor gestured at him.

“I’m fine here,” Angel replied.

“You’re going to be bored watching us read and frankly, you’ve already creeped Niklas out in the middle of the night because you’re lurking. Get some rest. You know damn well I’ll be fine now. Betting Willow says I can come home tomorrow, not that you can lurk in my room there either.” Connor jabbed a finger at him.

Angel threw his hands up. “Okay, you’re right. But promise me, you’ll call the nurses or have them get one of the doctors if you’re having pain and not…”

“Go raiding the narcotics stores here?” Connor asked bluntly, and Angel shrank in on himself. “I promise I won’t.”

“I won’t let him,” Niklas proclaimed.

“And I thank you for it.” Angel got up as Connor eyed Niklas in surprise. “And you get some rest yourself.”

Connor stretched, wincing as the heplock in his elbow pinched. “I’m so looking forward to it but not as much as I’m looking forward to this IV coming out. Willow?”

“Once everyone steps out, I’ll change the dressings and pull the IV. If you need more Toradol later, it can go into a muscle,” she replied. “And then you and Niklas can just read and watch TV and sleep. That would be the best medicine.”

“Almost like a vacation.” Connor put the books on the tray, pushing it aside. He was surprised at how much he looked forward to a day of reading, TV, and sleep. He could sign up for a few more days like this. He’d get Willow to prescribe it.


	31. The Past that Haunts

Chapter Thirty-One 

_Carry on my wayward son_  
For there’ll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don’t you cry no more   
**Carry On Wayward Son – Kansas**

Connor hadn’t remembered enjoying sunbathing quite this much. When Dawn suggested he lay out in the courtyard and let her draw him, he’d agreed. He’d promised Willow, Lorelei and Angel he’d take it easy now that Caha-Paluma was gone and no new enemy had cropped up. His body, still tired, enjoyed the down time. He knew he had drowsed as Dawn sketched.

“Are you two coming in?” 

Angel’s voice woke Connor up. His skin warm, maybe too warm, felt supple as Connor stretched. He hoped he hadn’t burned. He’d need to get some help to lotion up his back. He wondered idly if his tattoo would never fade thanks to his healing ability.

“I like it out here,” Connor said, not lifting his face from the soft blanket Dawn had given him. He knew Angel had to be sulking in the doorway where the sun couldn’t reach him. 

“We’re coming.” Dawn reached over and patted Connor’s heated back. 

It didn’t hurt so he must not be badly burned. He picked himself up off the ground and grabbed the blanket. 

Dawn snatched up his shirt for him and carried it along with her sketch pad back to the hotel. Buffy was waiting there next to Angel. Dawn paid her no mind, strolling on past heading toward the library. 

He wondered if they were spying, trying to see what he and Dawn were doing. Connor felt pretty confident that Buffy worried Dawn might be interested in him. He doubted Dawn would be, and he had no interest in that, at least not at the moment. He had personal work to do first.

“What kind of background are you going to use? The courtyard?” he asked dubiously, catching his shirt as Dawn tossed it to him.

“No. I was thinking something more Irish. A fairy hill maybe or some ruins like Hore Abbey or the Rock of Cashel,” she replied.

“That sounds interesting. I’d like to see it,” Angel said.

“Really?” Connor arched his eyebrows.

“Your Dad is actually a damn good artist,” Dawn said. 

“Huh, I would never have guessed until he showed me when he drew Caha-Paluma from my description.” Connor followed her into the library. The coolness felt pretty good too after the heat. Wes, Spike and Faith were in there discussing something with Gunn that came to an end when he came in. “Have you considered some of the Neolithic sites like those at Bru na Boinne?”

“Ooo, yeah, that would be good,” Dawn said, handing the sketch to Angel who poured over it. Dawn opened her laptop on one of the tables. “I’m expecting a Skype call.”

“You know about Bru na Boinne?” Angel couldn’t keep the shock off his face.

“Been there,” Connor replied watching the surprise deepening in Angel’s eyes. “Twice in theory. The first time might have been part of Wolfram and Hart’s spell, but I went on a pub crawl with friends and Haven to celebrate getting through the first year of law school. I loved it there to be honest.”

“Pub crawl, yeah he’s your kid.” Spike snorted.

“Shut it, Spike,” Angel snapped. 

“Who knows, maybe I’ll go back. Maybe a history tour this time since I probably should avoid the whole pub crawl thing.” Connor sighed. He liked Jameson whiskey and Guinness. He wasn’t entirely sure he would have to forego alcohol forever but for now it would be wise to not trade one addiction for another. “I also did a semester abroad in Dublin. By the way, there’s an Irish festival in a few weeks not far from here. Dawn and I are going, and I think Lorelei and Giles are too. It goes on until midnight, if you’d like to join us after dark, Angel. The music should be great.”

Angel beamed. “I’d love to. Thank you.”

“You and Li’l Bit dating now?” Spike asked, and Connor caught Buffy’s glare. Yeah, she was definitely not pro that idea.

Connor shook his head. “No. I’ve got way too much recovery to do before I think about that. Dawn and I knew each other years ago. Well, she knew the other me, but I remember everything I did under that spell so I guess all that is still part of me. We were friends then.”

“And friends now,” Dawn said as the Skype alert sounded. She patted the chair next to hers at the table. “Come here, Connor. You’ll want to see this…I hope. Maybe it’s not going to be as bright an idea as it seemed last night.”

Her concern intrigued him. What was she up to? He sat next to her. Dawn shielded the computer from his view, wearing her second thoughts like a neon sign but he recognized the voice the moment she answered the Skype.

“Hi, Dawnie, it’s great to see you! It’s been so long. I’m glad you reached out,” Haven said, making his gut clench.

Connor understood perfectly Dawn’s second thoughts. Well, he didn’t have to poke his nose into view of the camera. Could he bear seeing Haven again? Too many years had passed, and none of them good for him. On the other hand, he hungered to see her again, hoping she was doing well. She sounded so upbeat.

“I know. We need to do better with keeping in touch. I had to reach out and wish you luck with your new show.”

“I’m so excited. It’s like nothing I’ve ever done.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it but first.” Dawn paused glancing over at him. Connor nodded and she smiled. “You’ll never guess who I ran into here in L.A.” Dawn dragged Connor into the frame. He tried to put on his best smile but wasn’t sure he nailed it. Haven’s face lit up.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe it. Connor Hennessy, how many years has it been?” Haven cried, leaning toward her laptop’s camera. 

“Far too many. It’s great to see you again, Haven,” he said softly, afraid too much emotion would leak through.

She eyed him. “It looks like you’ve been through a ringer.”

Connor chuckled. “I could never fool you. You, on the other hand, look fantastic. I’m excited to hear about this new show too.”

“Who you talking to, sweetie?’ Another woman’s voice echoed in Haven’s room. 

Haven waved her arm wildly. “Kymbria, come meet Dawn and Connor. You remember me telling you about them.”

A lovely woman with smooth dark skin poked her head over Haven’s shoulder. “Your ex?”

“And a friend from art school. Guys, this is my wife,” Haven said.

“Nice to meet you,” he and Dawn echoed. 

Surprisingly it was nice to see Haven happily married. He’d known Haven was bi, and there was certainly no reason she wouldn’t have moved on long ago. Being married seemed to suit her. He and Dawn talked to her for over thirty minutes and left with promises to keep in touch.

Once they signed off, Connor gave Dawn a one-armed hug. “Thank you for that.”

“I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. I mean, I did when I set it up but then...” She shrugged. “I’m glad it wasn’t too hard on you.”

“Nah, I’m good. Seriously it was good to see her again, to see her happy. Sometimes I feel like everything I touch goes to hell so to have proof that isn’t always true helps.”

“Well I’m glad. Though, did you know Haven was a witch? I wasn’t sure I should say,” Dawn said.

“I knew she was Wiccan. I went with her to celebrations.”

Dawn shook her head. “No, well yes that too but she’s a witch like Willow and Lorelei. I am a bit of one too.”

His eyes widened. “I had no idea! So my normal girlfriend was a bit…special too. Huh, well okay then. Might have to amend my thoughts on witches a bit.”

“Glad to hear that.” Dawn smiled. “I have this for you too.” 

As Dawn clicked around on the computer, Connor realized that everyone was still in the room, working on their own projects, giving him and Dawn their space. He’d have to thank them for that.

 

“Actually, if you don’t mind everyone seeing these pictures I can project them. Willow hooked this computer up with a projector so we could all see whatever research we’d done when we do the planning thing,” Dawn said.

“How embarrassing are they?” he asked cautiously and Gunn snorted.

“Would I do that to you?” Dawn patted his knee. “They’re fine.”

“Okay sure. Can we hold off on that for a minute though? Being out in the sun and all that talking dehydrated me. I need a drink.”

“Actually, hang tight. Let me get it. I made you something special,” Dawn said.

Connor brightened. “I’m curious now.”

“Anyone else want anything while I’m up?” she asked but had no takers.

She came back shortly with a glass of water in one hand and something very blue in a tall glass in the other. “Willow and I looked up some high protein shakes that we could make that didn’t taste like butt.”

“Dawn!” Buffy scolded, looking up from the book she’d been perusing.

“Trust me, that’s accurate.” Connor shuddered. “So what it this?”

“A Blueberry lavender honey smoothie. Mostly it’s Greek yogurt, lots of berries and honey and some milk to thin it. I hope you like it.”

“I appreciate the effort. Thank you.” Connor took a big swallow of the water first, and then sipped the drink. “Hey, this is good! Thanks!”

“Great. I’ll tell Willow you like it because she says you have a long way to go to get back to a healthy weight.”

“He was always skinny though,” Gunn said. “Like a pipe cleaner.”

“He does seem to take after Darla, almost made me wonder if she had visited Spike, too,” Angel added ruefully, ignoring Connor’s ‘hey!’ and Spike’s ‘no bloody way!’ “But he definitely needs to put on more weight.”

“Well, I can see me drinking these much more than those horrible things Willow brought from the hospital or wherever she got them.” Connor took a bigger drink. “So, what do you have for me to look at?”

“I’m hoping you remember this.” Dawn tapped a couple of buttons and projected a picture of her in burgundy Victorian dress and a corset making the most of her slender form and small breasts. Redheaded Sean was on her arm in his air pirate cosplay.

Connor remembered it well. Linking an arm around Dawn, Haven stood next to her in her billowing blue gown with a vibrant silver corset. He had his arm around Haven in a dapper black suit and embroidered silver vest that matched his top hat.

“Told you, being a wanker is genetic,” Spike crowed.

“Ignore him, you looked great,” Dawn said.

“Completely ignoring him. And I loved your and Haven’s dresses.”

“And for that matter, Spike, you had an outfit a lot like that,” Angel said.

“Yeah but it _was_ the 1800s,” he protested.

“And you were always a wanker so maybe you’re on to something.” Angel shrugged.

Connor gave them both the finger as Faith strolled over to him and Dawn. She glanced back up at the screen before asking, “You two really enjoy this?”

“Sure, it’s fun being someone else for a little while,” Dawn replied.

“It was very stress relieving,” Connor agreed. “You dress up, hang out with like-minded people and just have fun.”

“In fact, Connor, there’s a steampunk convention in town shortly,” Dawn said. “Want to go or is it too short notice to whip you up some cosplay?”

“I don’t know. Some of my best stuff I left with Shyla after everything went to shit. I really do need to email her, let her know I’m getting some help.” He sighed. “I’m not sure I’m ready to let her know about the hotel.”

“Oh, why not?”

Lorelei’s voice startled him. He twisted around on the chair to see her and Giles coming into the library. Xander and Cordy were right behind them.

“Honestly, I’m not sure it’s safe for Shyla to know about this place. Have the Sanctuary spells been put back on?”

Angel cringed, and Connor wondered what that was about. “Not yet. The Sisters will be coming tomorrow.”

“Even with that, I don’t want to accidentally drag Shyla into this world. It’s bad enough Darts and Tin Man have been. Darts may never recover. Willow said she’s in a coma, and who knows, she could easily die. I can’t even say that’s worse than being in a coma.” He turned his gaze on Cordelia.

She returned it. “I got better. It can happen. Your friend has hope.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Cordelia. I appreciate that. But even so, my sister can meet me some place more neutral if she wants to see me. Or we could Skype if someone lets me borrow their computer. I don’t know if she has my stuff anymore. It’s been years. I’ll ask.” Connor looked up at Faith. “If you don’t have to run back to Cleveland, you could join us.”

Faith snorted, cuffing his shoulder. “Do I look like I want to play dress up or do you just want to walk in with two women in corsets on your arms?”

Connor smirked. “Like I’d say no to that.”

“Faith would snap you like a twig,” Spike said, and Xander gave a rueful nod.

Connor wasn’t sure he wanted to know anything about that. “Maybe, but there are certainly worse ways to go.”

Spike bobbed his head. “True.”

“I think I’ll pass.” Faith laughed. “On the steampunk at any rate. As for the other idea…”

“I’m just keeping out of this,” Angel said, trying to look innocent but failing. He was probably picturing Darla and Dru in their corsets back in the day if Connor had to guess.

“What are you doing?” Lorelei asked, sitting down next to Connor.

“Well, Dawn Skyped my ex, Haven, and we talked which was nice. Her art’s doing great, and she’s married a lovely woman. It felt pretty good actually getting to reconnect with that part of life, and now Dawn has a few things for me to see, or is this the only thing you had?”

“Nope, had a few more.” Dawn moved on to the next picture, a pizza party at her place. 

Connor didn’t remember it really and wondered if Buffy or Angel would say anything about the hookah readily visible on the corner of the table. “I’m not sure I remember the party but we sure look happy.”

“Gee, wonder why,” Buffy said sarcastically. Hookah spotted.

“I always did have a taste for the intoxicants. Guess that’s good in a way.” He shrugged.

“How so?” Gunn asked.

“The spell didn’t change the fact I can punch out of fucking car or kill someone with one blow,” Connor replied, unable to keep the bitterness entirely out of his voice.

“They were supposed to make you very mellow to hopefully avoid that situation,” Angel said, embarrassment written across his face.

“You got lucky.” Connor jabbed a finger at him. “Young men fight. It happens a lot at clubs or frat houses but I guess it did work because I never really felt like fighting. I mean the closest I came was sparring in the SCA or running around with the steampunk weaponry. But did you ever give a thought about the other things young men do?” Connor shot him a pointed look.

If vampires could blush, Connor was sure Angel would be. “I was hoping you’d be smart enough to use protection.”

“Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant. Grad school is expensive as hell. A lot of guys pay for it by selling blood plasma and sperm.”

“Okay, I’m not sure I need to hear this,” Gunn groaned, rubbing his head.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t leave now if you paid me.” Spike slapped his thigh. “Someone go pop some corn.”

“Spike, shut up,” Angel moaned, getting to his feet. He fell into his pacing routine.

“I’m serious. Did you ever think about the possibility of a bunch of little half demon kids running around?” Connor twisted the knife just because it was a little bit funny to see how uncomfortable Angel was. That was something he should probably discuss with Lorelei.

“Not once,” he admitted. “Are there?”

“Like I’d tell you.” Connor snorted, and Angel stalked over putting a hand on either shoulder staring down at Connor. He canted his face up to meet his father’s eyes. “What?”

“Why are you so difficult?”

“Look at my genetic stock and ask that again.”

Angel lightly slid his fingers around Connor’s throat, shaking him playfully. 

Connor pushed him back just as lightheartedly. “Where did you learn your parenting skills from? Homer Simpson?”

Angel thumped him on the head. “Seriously, some days I think you might actually be Spike’s. You both have that slender form, same inborn desire to constantly bait me.”

Connor snorted. “And no, there’s not. I never did it. I didn’t like their policies that seemed a little...prejudiced in a way. I can understand that you had to have at least graduated high school but there are height requirements.”

“And you failed?” Gunn asked chuckling.

“No...almost, shut up. Like short men aren’t worthy of passing on their genes. You had to be strictly heterosexual. I guess they think if there is a gay gene, they don’t want it passed on.” Connor shrugged. “So no, I didn’t. Wolfram and Hart paid for the school but living in New York was....”

“Nightmarishly expensive,” Dawn finished his thought.

“Damn straight. So no, as far as I know, you don’t have grandkids but who the hell knows what happened all those years I’ve been high.”

“I’m going to not think too hard about that.” Angel sagged like a popped balloon.

“Yeah so no Grandpa....what the hell is your name? I know it can’t be Angel,” Connor said.

“Your mother gave me that name. My name was Liam but that was so long ago,” Angel sounded wistful.

“That’s certainly better than Grandpa Angel. Hmm, two vampires basically named William.” Connor turned his gaze to Spike.

“And neither of us really use the name,” Spike replied.

Connor shrugged. “Got anything more for me, Dawn?”

“A few and Haven is going to send some of your trip to Ireland to me. She sent this video this morning.” Dawn clicked on that.

The slightly shaky video opened with a panoramic view of the King’s Head Pub in Galway. Connor remembered that much about this particular night but not a whole lot more.

“Oh, yeah, we were there as part of the pub crawl, of course, but it had music that night. I remember liking it...I think,” he said.

“A boozy blur?” Spike asked.

“There was a lot of Jameson flowing that night.” Connor nodded.

“This place is so familiar,” Angel said, staring hard at the screen. “I know this place. How?”

“This is the Kings Head pub one of the oldest in Ireland. It’s like eight hundred years old.”

“It’s in Galway!” Angel cried, thumping across the floor for a closer look.

“Yeah. Sean’s Bar was older, like built in year 900 or some crap but this one is big.”

“I used to drink there all the time,” Angel said. “It wasn’t called that back then but yes, I remember it. Fondly.”

“So we’ve found something we have in common.” Connor laughed as the video cut to the inside, and he and his friends singing along with the rest of the audience to _Whiskey in the Jar_.

Dawn stopped it. “It goes on long. You can watch it later. There are a couple more pictures.”

One was of him and Haven in winter in Central Park, and the last was of Dawn and Haven in front of the sculpture of his torso and hips with the video embedded in it.

He took in the name plaque. “Aw, she really did call it What’s Bigger Brains or Balls!”

“Did you think I lied?” Dawn shoved him

Faith looked at the sculpture and asked, “So this was modeled from the real thing?”

“Cast actually,” he replied.

“Really?” She spun around and eyed his crotch.

He cocked up his eyebrows. Faith favored him with a salacious grin.

“Oh no you don’t! No flirting,” Buffy said, tossing her hands in the air. “Angel.”

“I already protested them as a couple once, and I promised not to harp.” Angel waved his hands.

“You get it. That’s exactly what I need from you. Thanks, Dad.”

Faith sauntered over to Connor. “Maybe I will stick around and do the steampunk thing.”

“I am so open to that.” Connor smirked.

“Yep, he’s so very much Angelus’s son. Arrogant, mouthy and perverted.” Spike rolled his eyes.

“I’m nothing like this,” Angel protested.

Connor sputtered. “Oh please. You’re telling me back in the day you did not have threesomes with Mom and Drusilla, and as much as it pains me to say it, those two probably slept with Spike too or just a flat out orgy.”

“You might be reading too much into those stories you’ve heard,” Buffy said.

“Uh-huh, look at their faces.” Connor swept a hand to Spike who’d gone pink. “Hell it was probably just them two together when they were bored.”

“How did you and Faith flirting turn into my past sex life?” Angel huffed, obviously painfully embarrassed.

“Because your son’s kind of a jackass?” Spike asked.

“I want to protest but...”

“Thanks, Dad.” Connor shook his head. “And you don’t have any worries. I was very serious when I said I don’t want involved in any relationship right now. It’s hard enough to get sober. I don’t need any entanglements.” He sighed heavily. “And to be way too honest, after the last several years of making my living like I was, I’d just like to leave my pants on for a while.” Truth was he didn’t want touched period, even though he knew he’d probably enjoy a good hard romp with Faith. On the other hand judging by how silent and heavy the room had gotten, he probably should have just kept his big mouth shut about being a rent boy.

Faith put her hands on his shoulder. “I get it. Really, I do, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore than I’ll bet you do.”

He reached up and squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Faith.”

“But when you get your head on straight, come on up to Cleveland.” She gave his hair a light tug. 

_God that felt good_.He chuckled. “Be careful of what you wish for. It could happen. After all, I have no idea what I’m going to do now.”

“I thought he was staying here,” Cordy piped up.

“We haven’t brought that up yet, Cordy,” Buffy said. 

“And here I thought it was a done deal.” She shrugged. “I have some things I need to do. Betting you end up staying.”

Connor watched her leave the room, and then turned his attention to Buffy. “What haven’t you brought up?”

“We wanted to talk to you about what you wanted to do next,” she replied.

“If you’re staying or not,” Xander said. “And if you are, you might want to give Cordy a wide berth.” He didn’t quell when Buffy and Angel glared.

Connor didn’t have time for his nonsense. “Did you not just hear what I said about relationships? To be honest, I’m going to have trouble just being friends with Cordy after all that happened. There’s way too much bad to even think about anything else. Even if Cordelia doesn’t remember it, I _do_ as much as I don’t want to.”

“Well good. I better go give her a hand,” Xander said, stalking out.

“Don’t take it too personally,” Angel said. “He doesn’t like me either.”

“The benefits of being your kid never end.”

“Connor, this probably isn’t the time or place but one day we need to talk about what you do remember about those days,” Angel said hesitantly. 

Connor couldn’t blame him. He felt like bolting just thinking about it. “I remember it all, Angel. Every bit of it except....after Jasmine...” He tried to swallow past the constriction in his throat but barely could manage it. “After I killed my daughter, it all becomes a blur.”

“I’m not even convinced she was your daughter, not really,” Giles broke in, and Connor shot him a disbelieving look. Giles held up a hand. “It’s not unheard of, sexual energy being used to work magic. From what Wes has told me, the pregnancy developed a highly accelerated rate. Correct me if I’m wrong, Angel, but Connor’s own development did not.”

Angel shook his head. “Not that I know. Mostly Darla didn’t want to talk about it other than to be pretty pissed off at me.” He snorted. “And then we were too busy trying to keep her murder spree to a minimum.”

“God, there is no part about my family life that doesn’t suck,” Connor grumbled. “I never thought about it but yeah, how else was a vampire going to nourish a baby other than more and more blood.”

“Unfortunately.”

“And then there was that cult that sprung up around Darla,” Wes said.

“What? No seriously, what the hell?” Connor hadn’t heard this story before. Did he want to know?’

“Long story. Basically a bunch of idiot vampires decided Darla’s protected pregnancy - did I mention that? Nothing could hurt her or you?” Angel seemed somehow smaller.

“Not back then no, but Cordy told me, told me you found out trying to abort me,” he growled.

“That’s not…never mind all that now. But yes, in the beginning Darla wanted nothing to do with any of this but that’s not my point. There was a group of vampires who wanted to worship the son of two vampires.” Angle couldn’t quite meet his eye.

“Any more of these ponces around?” Spike asked.

“No clue.”

“I’m the freaking vampire messiah? Woo hoo. Anything _more_ I should know?”

“My point is, as opposed to being your actual child, the meteor shower caused by the Beast coupled with the tantric energy generated by you and Cordelia allowed the entry of this hell goddess. What you said about the blood sacrifice being necessary really has Wes and I thinking there was next to no relationship to you genetically in the least. You were merely a key to the portal to allow Jasmine in.”

“Great, I break one dimension’s walls getting here, and losing my virginity breaks another one.” Connor let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Could be worse,” Dawn said, taking his hand. “You could be a living dimensional key.”

He laughed mirthlessly, squeezing her hand. “That’s what I like about you, Dawn. We have a connection. We’re just so weird.”

“Hey.” She slapped his arm lightly.

“Unique? We’re unique.” Connor rubbed his forehead. “Thanks, Giles. I think in retrospect you and Wes might be on to something. I’d prefer to think of it that way, really. Hell, Jasmine was older than me by a decade at least in appearance. I think she already existed in that other dimension but at the time, it felt real. Mostly I think because I wanted it to. I wanted something that was _mine_ so badly, something that was real but I sure as hell didn’t get it.”

“So you don’t remember after Jasmine at all?” Angel asked cautiously.

“I remember coming undone. I do. I know I hurt people. I remember wanting to just stop fighting, to rest. I remember begging you to end me in the mall but I have no idea how the hell I got there. I ...remember thinking how did I get here? How did I rig up the bombs?”

“We were hoping you could tell us. Gunn and I talked about it. He says Fred didn’t teach you about how to make those bombs,” Angel said.

“No, never.” Connor leaned up, looking at the door to be sure Cordy hadn’t returned. “How exactly do I walk into a mall carrying a woman in a coma? How did I manage get that many hostages when I was unarmed? I must have gotten the car batteries and the rest at the mall but I know jack all about car batteries.” Connor ran his fingers through his long hair. “How did you know I was even there?”

“Wolfram and Hart.”

“Did it occur to you that maybe they helped me do it? They could have gambled you’d turn to them for magic big enough to handle me and everything that was going to shit.”

“At the time, no but now, yes.” Angel sighed. “I knew something was wrong even then but I didn’t have time to think.”

“I was going mental at a pretty alarming rate,” Connor agreed. “I’m sure you didn’t have time for anything.”

“It had to be the backlash from losing the hold Jasmine had on everyone, that deep sense of peace,” Wesley mused.

Connor’s chest tightened at the memory. He remembered all the lost souls. Later, brainwashed, he remembered reading about all the suicides after the ‘cult leader’ Jasmine had died, all those deaths laid at his feet for stealing away what Wesley had rightly termed a deep sense of peace. Connor shook his head. “I didn’t feel it, Wes, remember? For whatever reason, I always saw Jasmine for what she was, and her peace...never touched me. I had no sense of calm from her. All I wanted was to feel that but I didn’t. Not once.” 

A fine tremor cut through his body, growing with each pass. “I’ve never felt peace not until...” God, how could this be? He hadn’t given it much thought but there it was, bared, raw. “Only the heroin gave me any peace.” His voice broke just a moment before the rest of him did. “I’m giving up the only thing that gave me any solace. How can I do this?”

He folded in on himself, unable to stop the flood of tears. Connor didn’t want to weep in front of these people but he couldn’t stop. How could he give up his inner peace? This couldn’t compete with being high.

Angel thumped down at the seat next to Connor, displacing Dawn. He pulled Connor against him, tucking his chin against Connor’s crown. Thankfully he said nothing. because Connor didn’t know how he’d handle it. The room fell silent except for his sobbing. When the torrent ended, Connor was emptied out, hollow inside. He wiped his face, with a shaking hand, squirming a bit to get Angel to loosen his grip. “God. Sorry.”

“I wish I could make it better,” Angel said so softly Connor wasn’t sure anyone other than he could hear. “There are other ways of finding peace, Connor. Last time, too much had gone wrong so fast, and no one was there for you. Not even me, not like I should have been. I wanted to be but...well you know why. This time you aren’t alone.”

Connor nodded because he knew it was what Angel wanted. He didn’t know that he believed any of it but he wanted to. He knew that Angel would try, would probably fuck it up but he would try. “Boy, P!nk really nailed how this feels.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you listen to the radio at all? You know, _‘I’m safe, Up high, Nothing can touch me, But why do I feel this party’s over? No pain, Inside, You’re my protection. But how do I feel this good sober’_?” His voice was too rough to do it any justice. Angel stared at him like he’d grown a new head. “Go listen online. That is exactly where I am now.” Connor’s chest heaved but he refused to break down again. He wasn’t sure he had anything left in him anyhow. “Sorry, Lorelei, guess you know the first problem we probably need to tackle.” He dragged in another ragged breath. “If you still want to deal with me.”

“The only way I wouldn’t is if you refuse to even try.”

He wiped his eyes again, opening them to see Giles sliding a tea cup in front of him. When had he managed to get that? Connor spotted the electric kettle over by the whiskey set. “I’m going to try. Thanks, Rupert.”

“I know it’s exceedingly English of me but it might help take the edge off the emotions.”

Connor dutifully sipped it. Damn but it was good. “I appreciate it. It’s fantastic. Okay, can I be done talking about all of that now?”

“Yes, of course,” Angel said. 

“Before I came a little unglued, you were saying something about having things to tell me and about me staying here.” He clenched the cup almost too strongly. “I can stay, right? Or do I need to call Honey about that back bedroom of hers?”

“You’re staying right here,” Angel said hurriedly and a bit too loudly. “If that’s what you want.”

“Cordy, Dawn and I were working on a new place for you,” Buffy said. 

“That room of yours is old with a terrible bed,” Dawn added. 

“This place has several suites in it.” Buffy pointed to the ceiling. “There are a couple that are open so Angel and I talked about it, and we picked one out for you. Dawn and Cordy helped me to start getting it ready.”

He took another drink to steady himself before he could find another well of tears within him. “Thank you. Where? It’s not up by yours is it?” He couldn’t contain his suspicious tone. He appreciated the offer but he didn’t want to be under Angel’s too watchful eye.

“No, it’s down a floor and on the opposite end across from Dawn’s.” Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Why don’t you want to be near us?”

“You know I have vampiric senses, right?”

“He was bitching about whether or not he could smell you guys in the library’s attic and if Caha-Paluma could,” Gunn offered.

“Ew.” Buffy made a face.

“That is really gross,” Faith said. “That means you can tell when we’re...”

“Don’t think about it too much,” Connor interrupted, and she shook herself.

“And I think he’s referring to his hearing, not his sense of smell,” Spike said, and Connor pointed a finger at him.

“I don’t...oh, _oh_!” Buffy shuddered.

“Yeah, there’s a huge list of things I never want to hear or see, and Dad’s sex life is way up at the top.”

“That goes both ways,” Angel replied.

“Nor do I want him knowing what I’m doing every moment either so thank you, a floor down on the opposite side is perfect.”

“So you’re going to stay?” 

Connor heard the need in Angel’s voice. “Truthfully I have nowhere else to go but even if that weren’t true, I’d want to stay,” he replied knowing it was what Angel wanted to hear. It was true at any rate.

The room went silent again, for what seemed like forever but was probably only a few seconds. Faith leaned against the wall, watching him. “I want to say something to lighten the mood but maybe that ain’t appropriate.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” he replied.

“It would help if I could think of anything other than having sex sounds like a good way to pass the end of the world,” Faith shrugged. “Even if you were clueless about it. Am I wrong in thinking Queen C had to teach you a few things?”

“Me? Yeah, I had such a great sexual education from my really religious, killing vampires for God father from the 1700s living in a hell dimension where human women didn’t exist.” Connor chuckled, sweeping a hand toward Angel. “And this one is not exactly a bastion of safe sex practices. Did condoms even exist back then?”

“Yes, but they were literally intestines or eel skins that you tied on,” Angel replied, studying his hands.

“Now that’s an image that’s going to haunt me,” Connor said.

“Yes, that’s not what I had in mind for mood lightning but that image might make you laugh,” Faith said, and he made a disparaging noise.

“And so that left me with Gunn or Fred for help.”

“ _Way_ above my pay grade.” Gunn waved his hands. “No way was I going to have that talk with teenaged you.”

“We both might have died of mortification.”

Gunn kicked his feet up on the table he sat at. “Definitely.”

“I did have one bit of sex ed from Holtz, a long lecture about the sin of Onanism,” Connor offered.

“I have no idea what that is,” Faith replied.

“Ugh,” Angel groaned. “It means masturbate and go straight to hell. My father gave me that lecture _all_ the time.” He rolled his eyes. “As if I wasn’t doing a half dozen worse things.”

“Like irreparably damaging the gene pool of Galway.” Spike smirked.

“Shut up.” Angel took a step toward Spike before Buffy stopped him.

“Wait, I’m still working on this Holtz dude worrying about wanking when you’re locked in a hell dimension,” Faith held her hands out.

“Right? And he’s the only other human. Let me tell you, there were no sexy lady demons in that place. Not that it mattered because all I knew about sex was anything below the belt was evil and God might have struck me dead if I played with them.” Connor snorted. “Have to say I was a little afraid of this God by the time I was old enough to give it much thought.”

Angel sighed. “And I know it’s wrong but I’m sort of relieved not to have to have the big talk with you either because I’d have had no good guide for that one.”

“I’m considering using recordings of Josh shrieking all night when he was a baby played at random intervals in the middle of the night once he hits thirteen,” Gunn said. “That son, is the sound of what happens when you have unprotected sex. And it doesn’t end for months and months.”

“Better slot out some time for Josh, Lorelei. He’s gonna need it.” Connor laughed. 

“I better start making a virtual calendar for all the appointments needed to handle this crew,” she replied.

“At least you won’t have to contend with all the issues that crop up when your dad thinks you’re evil.”

“I keep telling you, mostly that ended before you were born,” Angel protested.

Connor turned on his seat, eyeballing him. “Mostly?”

“Okay, in full disclosure I was pretty damn sure, at that first diaper change, that pure evil was leaving your body because no way in hell milk could turn into that stench.”

Laughing, Connor shook his head. “All diapers smell.”

“Yeah, well, what did I know other than if this gags normal men, imagine what it does to someone with a sense of smell like mine?” Angel shrugged. “We nearly found out if vampires can puke. All I could think was ‘I’m going to throw up on the baby’!”

“I can’t even picture you changing diapers.” Connor simply couldn’t.

“You’re not the only one,” Spike said.

“He wouldn’t let anyone else try at first,” Gunn said. “Except Cordelia. It took a few times before finally he trusted us with you. Even if you might have been evil.” He grinned.

Connor flipped him off. 

“Given your inability to go the hell to sleep, we were all pretty sure you were actually evil.” Angel chuckled. “God, we tried everything. Walking, driving in the car, giving you your bear.”

“I had a stuffed bear?”

Gunn made a snide noise. “You had everything! Bears, rattles, little hockey shirts with your name on it.”

“Hockey?” Connor arched his eyebrows at his father.

“I like hockey,” Angel replied defensively.

“You were really into being a dad.” Buffy slid an arm around Angel. Connor tried to ignore the sadness in her eyes at Angel’s lost opportunity.

“I was. It was something I could never have hoped for but there I was with this tiny little life who had lungs bigger than this damn hotel.” Angel tossed his arms up. “Non-stop crying. Wasn’t hungry, diaper was dry. Was he evil? Did he just hate sleep? No one knew. Lorne tried singing.”

“You tried making goofy faces,” Wes offered up.

Spike sputtered. “Can you imagine Mr. Broody doing baby talk?”

“Please, just shut up. And the faces worked.”

“Nope, cannot picture it.” Faith shook her head. 

“Let’s see the face that worked,” Spike said and Angel glared. “Come on, we need to see this. It’s the closest anyone’s had to a laugh since this all began.”

Angel rubbed his forehead. 

“Come on, Angel. He’s not wrong about the needed laugh,” Faith said.

“Fine but no one is going to find it funny.” Angel’s face morphed into his vampiric visage. He pointed to his face. “All the cute silly faces in the world, and all Connor did was cry. This face, he giggled, patted it, and went right to sleep.”

“Told you I liked Angelus better,” Connor replied ruefully. Angel was right. This wasn’t particularly funny.

“But did you baby talk with the fangs?” Dawn asked dubiously.

Angel hung his head. “Yes. But it worked wonders every time.”

“At what point did you begin to think that ‘my son is fundamentally broken’?” Connor asked, seriously wondering himself. He was beginning to think he entered the world messed up beyond repair.

“Right about then but I figured you recognized your dad and were comforted.” Angel shrugged. “And so long as you stopped crying, no one cared if it took a vampire making goo goo noises through his fangs.”

“Lorelei,” Connor said.

“I’ll book about three or four sessions for this alone,” she replied.

“Thank you.” Connor stared at his empty teacup. “Rupert, is there more tea?”

“Yes, I brewed a pot. Would you like some more?”

“I can get it.”

Dawn took the cup from him. “I’ll get it. You look like you should be stretching out and resting and trying not to think about Angel baby talking with fangs.” She pointed to Spike on the small love seat and jerked her hand. “Trade him spots, Spike. I want to show a video. Maybe that’ll make us smile a bit. It’s part of Haven’s art project, if you don’t mind Connor.”

“I’m fine with that.” He stood, bemused.

Spike grumbled but he traded spots. Connor didn’t lay down since he wanted the tea more. Dawn brought two cups, one for herself.

“Giles had some raw honey over there. As I remember it, you love it sweet.”

“Definite sweet tooth,” he agreed, sipping it. Dawn sat next to him. She tapped her shoulder and he leaned against her, ignoring Buffy’s pointed look. “Spike, hit play if you don’t mind.”

The video roared. Connor grinned: plane engines. “The skydiving part.”

“Yeah, you looked so happy. She sent a couple other videos too, and I have mine for that project. Do you remember helping?”

He thought about it, pushing through the various incongruous memories. “The dance routine, yeah.”

“You are going to jump out of a perfectly good airplane,” Angel interrupted, sitting back down finally.

“It’s fun. These are wingsuits. I _loved_ it,” Connor replied, watching himself toss himself out of the airplane in his deep blue suit.

“That looks like so much damn fun,” Faith said as Connor and his friends sailed through the air.

“It is, blindingly expensive too as a hobby but I loved skydiving in all its forms,” Connor replied.

“I would love to try it anyhow,” she replied.

“Maybe when I get better and can scrape some cash together I’ll take you.”

“You’re both crazy,” Angel said. “Did Holtz drop you on your head as a baby?”

“No!”

“Did you, Angel?” Buffy asked.

“No! I was very careful.” Angel eyed Connor. “Well, he looks like Darla. Maybe he inherited some insanity from her. I’m certain she’s responsible for some of his worst qualities.”

“You are really mouthy for someone I can take out with a number two pencil to the chest,” Connor shot back, grinning. Dawn patted him on the hand.

Spike howled. “Wes, mate, sorry but I’m moving back in here. You’re on your own. I can _not_ miss this.”

“The hell you are,” Angel protested as Dawn got up to change video clips.

“Hey, recovery is easier with family, right, Lorelei?” Spike protested. “The kid needs his Uncle Spike and all my wonderful stories.”

“The last thing he needs is your non-stop yammering,” Angel grumbled, and Buffy pinched the bridge of her nose.

“And I think, if Dru is my sister, then I’m the uncle, and I’m not okay with that.” Connor wagged his head. “But I’m so okay with your stories.”

“No, you’re not.” Angel poked a finger Connor’s way. “There’s a longstanding rule at this hotel, Connor. No encouraging Spike.”

Connor snorted as Dawn returned. She pointed to Spike to start the new video. “This was my art project,” Dawn said. “Getting ready to make this was sort of like Dancing with the Stars only without any stars.”

“This one took us a lot of hours of practice. I thought I was going to fail my midterms.”

“You were fine. You were so smart,” she replied.

Connor spotted Buffy’s serious expression at the mention of the art project, an expression that slowly morphed into pain. She looked at Dawn and asked, “Is this the one that was about abusive relationships?”

Dawn nodded. “I had it as the center piece of a set of video displays, and the others were the phone numbers of domestic violence help lines and shelters that could be reprogramed for various cities if I took the display on tour.”

“You look upset. I swear, everything in the video is scripted. I didn’t hurt Dawn,” Connor said, looking between Buffy and the video. He had forgotten the raw beauty of the routine one of Dawn’s friends had designed for her for this piece.

“It’s about one of my relationships,” Buffy whispered, crossing her arms across her chest protectively. “And how it affected everyone.”

Connor looked to Angel, startled. He didn’t know why he should be too surprised that Angel could possibly be abusive but somehow he hated to think it was true.

Dawn took his hand. “Not him. Spike...when he was still a vampire.”

“Damn, this place really is a messed up soap opera,” he said, and Angel mouthed the word ‘blunt’. Spike looked distinctly unhappy.

As messed up as the dance ‘sex’ was, it was brutal but intimate, brimming with emotion. He remembered thinking Dawn must have had a bad relationship when they had practiced it because he hadn’t’ thought she was that good of an actress. The dance simmered on the screen, smoldering hot but so damn sad at the same time.

“Hmm, Buffy, I don’t think you have to worry about Connor having hot, animal sex with your kid sister at some future point,” Faith said when it was over. “I think you need to worry about if they’ve already had hot, animal sex.”

Buffy glared first at Faith and then at him. Connor waved his hand. “No, seriously, no! It was a dance.”

“My friend Dan choreographed it. Nothing more than that,” Dawn said.

“Uh-huh,” Faith shot him a smarmy look.

“Seriously. I’m many things, Faith, but I am not a cheat,” Connor protested. “I have never cheated on any of my girlfriends, not even Night Rain though I wouldn’t call her a girlfriend, not really.”

“Um, weren’t you renting yourself out with her?” Faith asked.

He shrugged. “Not cheating when they know what you do for a living. Besides, her, I felt nothing for, not really. I loved Haven. Never cheated on her. In fact, there was really only one time I ever had eyes for someone other than the person I was with.” He scowled. 

Faith’s dark eyes danced. “Me. When you were with Cordy you definitely had the hots for me.”

“I wouldn’t have put it that way. It wasn’t about finding you hot - which yeah okay, sure you are - it was about the power!” he replied. “I had finally met my match in combat besides Dad. That was...freaking hot, let’s be honest.”

Faith snorted, and Spike laughed. “Oh, so he likes it when a Slayer beats up on him. He _is_ family.”

“Spike! Dammit, I’m going to just kill you,” Angel growled. “Quit being so...”

“Right?” Spike cocked up a single eyebrow.

“Yeah, Dad hates that,” Connor replied. “And yeah, I didn’t care for getting dismissed by both Willow and Faith when they met me but sparring with Faith? I couldn’t help taking notice of her. Not sure any teenaged boy could have ignored you, Faith. And boy did I _pay_ for those wandering eyes. I paid so much I should have been guilty of being a cheat.”

“I like that you think you can handle me,” Faith grinned. 

“I’ve already been involved in rough trade sex with one Slayer, but she was... yeah there’s no good way to finish that sentence,” Connor said, staring at the floor.

Dawn patted his arm again. “And the whole point of the dance was abusive relationships aren’t good.”

“True but it doesn’t have to be abusive,” Connor said. “Some of us like it a little rough.”

“Yeah Buffy, while you’re worrying about the inevitability of Angel’s pervy son sleeping with Li’l Bit, Nancyboy should be worried about the fact there’s no way Connor’s not trying on another Slayer for size,” Spike crowed, gesturing to Faith.

“Why won’t you shut up?” Angel moaned, running a hand through his hair roughly. “And that suite we’re giving Connor is still too close to mine.”

“And just where would you like me to go?” Connor huffed.

“There’s that cage in the basement,” Buffy snapped.

“I was thinking Cleveland,” Angel replied with a little smile.

“Great, I’ll fill Connor in about that Dresden disaster then.” Spike beamed.

“Only if I don’t kill you first.”

“I’ve decided what I’m going to do when I get sober,” Connor said. 

“Move to Cleveland?” Spike asked.

“Become an urban fantasy author and put this all on the page. I’ll be famous,” Connor laughed. “Dawn, you want to draw my covers?”

“We could do a graphic novel.” She grinned at him. 

“I like how you think.”

“Neither of you are funny,” Buffy said.

“Matter of opinion.” Dawn picked up a pillow and put it in her lap. She patted it. “You really do need to rest. We promised Willow. Spike, click that next video.”

Connor curled up on his side, putting his head on the pillow. He wouldn’t be able to see the screen clearly but it didn’t matter. He really was more exhausted than he wanted people to know. He ignored Buffy and Angel’s disgruntled looks.

“What is this one?” Buffy asked.

“No clue. Haven didn’t say other than it was candid,” Dawn replied as Xander and Cordy came back.

Xander scowled at him. “Awfully cozy,” he said, and Dawn shushed him.

Half listening, Connor heard Dawn and Haven talking out on the sidewalk in New York, Dawn asking why Haven was recording it and her replying something about a candid film project. They let themselves into his and Haven’s tiny studio apartment.

On the screen, a younger, more innocent, magic-screwed him was asleep on a futon with his head on an enormous law book. Haven woke him with a kiss having handed off the camera to Dawn.

“Did you survive?” she asked.

“Finals are over,” he heard himself proclaim. 

“Dawn and I still have some projects to finish before we’re free. Celebrating will have to wait for the weekend.”

“Sad,” he said. “Sean and the guys are coming over for game night. Will that bug you two?”

“Nah,” Haven replied.

“Connor, do you have anything to spur a little creativity. Haven and I are running a little dry,” Dawn said.

“Uh oh,” the present day Dawn groaned. “I remember this.”

Connor lifted his head from the pillow. “Are you sure?”

On screen, he pulled a beautiful cobalt glass hookah out of a box and filled it before sitting down on the futon again with it. Dawn curled up with him on the futon taking the pipe stem out of his mouth so she could puff on it. Haven cuddled up on his other side and did the same.

A shadow fell over him and Buffy stood over him and Dawn, fury in her eyes. “Really? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“The men in my family have a bad influence on the women in yours?” he asked, and the fury visibly built.

“You taught me little sister how to smoke dope! At least in the still photo I could pretend that the hookah never went to Dawn.”

“Me? Really? Serious law student versus two bohemian art chicks, just who do you think taught who to smoke pot?” Connor replied, and Buffy hauled him off the loveseat by his t-shirt.

“This makes me remember my twenties,” Giles said wistfully as on-screen Connor got out his D&D figurines out.

“No one wants to know, _Ripper_ ,” Buffy grumbled, shaking Connor. “And you, I just watched you fix up a bowl of weed for my sister.”

“Yeah years ago, because she asked,” he replied, realizing she wasn’t shaking him hard, just enough to get his attention. 

“That reminds me,” Dawn said, reaching up to grab his T-shirt from the back. She tugged, and Buffy let him go. Connor thumped down on the loveseat. “If you’re going to be across the hall from me, I better, um, move a few things to my studio.”

Buffy’s glare intensified but it remained on him instead of her sister. He nodded. “I will definitely be able to smell your weed from across the hall, and we already know I cannot be trusted with drugs.”

“Honestly, Dawn.” Buffy slammed a fist into her own hip.

“Yeah, you should learn to share,” Faith said, earning her own glare.

“I’m fast forwarding this thing. No one wants to see skinny ass playing geek games even if he _is_ high as a kite,” Spike said, punching the button on the computer.

“I’m _so_ going to miss being high.” Connor thumped his head back against the loveseat cushion.

“Connor,” Angel hissed.

“I will!” he protested, and then turned to Giles. “Speaking of your twenties, which I’m assuming given the time period was filled with great drugs and lots of sex.”

“Stop,” Buffy groaned.

“You had a great song about how being high actually feels.”

“ _Comfortably Numb_ ,” Giles said. “Used to play that on my guitar all the time. The ladies loved it. It does rather embody the feeling but it’s just an illusion as surely as magic is.”

Connor grunted. “Way to ruin it. Keep that up.” 

Dawn pulled him back down onto the pillow. “Rest.”

“Man, you could drink,” Cordy said, looking at the televised D&D game and the growing beer bottle collection.

“He’s Irish,” Spike replied.

“Negative stereotype,” Connor said. “And yeah, beer was good, Jameson was better.”

“I shouldn’t be proud of that, but I sort of am,” Angel smiled.

“Nice.” Xander rolled his eyes. “Anyhow we wanted to see what everyone wanted for dinner? I figured we’d order in once Willow gets here. We were thinking Chinese.”

“Sounds good to me. Connor, no offense you’re most in need of food, does that work for you?” Buffy asked.

“I am not picky about food but yes, I love Chinese.” Connor lifted his head off the pillow. “How much can I order? I can sign over my disability check when it comes to help pay for food.”

“Son, do not worry about that. I never got to take care of you growing up. Let me worry about food for you now,” Angel said. “And Willow says you still need to get your weight up, so I don’t care if you order three meals. Get whatever you want.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll get the menus,” Cordy said, heading back out.

“I’ll just get my usual,” Dawn said.

“Orange chicken,” Connor said, and Buffy’s eyebrows shot up.

Dawn beamed, brushing his hair back from his face. “You remembered.”

“You rarely ventured from that.”

“And you would eat anything.”

“Hey, what the hell is this shit?” Spike gestured to the screen.

Buffy crossed her arms, watching on-screen Dawn crawling into bed on the futon with Connor. “Yes, Dawn, what is that?”

“It was like three in the morning. Too late to get a cab, too dangerous to walk home.” She shrugged. “I spent the night.”

“In skinny ass’s bed,” Spike said.

“Hey!” Connor curled his lips at him. “And my apartment was like thirteen by fifteen, where else would anyone sleep?”

“And here you said you never slept with Dawn.” Faith laughed.

“Not like _you_ mean. We really did sleep. This recording will cut out when Haven gets in bed with us. Don’t worry, I usually ended up on the floor because those two would sleep like this.” He flung his arms out wide. 

“One time we found you in the tub with a pillow.” Dawn chuckled. “It was just college life, Buffy. Nothing sexual, though in retrospect, I’m not sure how you slept between two women like that.”

“Why do you think I was in the tub?” 

“And that’s enough of this nonsense.” Spike turned the recording off. “You’re probably in bad trouble with Buffy now, _Uncle_.”

Connor stuck up his middle finger. “And what kind of trouble would that be on a scale of a kid forgetting homework being the best to Dawn’s the one cooking dinner tonight being the other end of the scale?”

“Oh, he really _does_ know you, Bit.” Spike chuckled.

“Not funny.” Dawn grabbed him through his shirt, pinching skin before rolling him right onto the floor.

“Always on the floor with you,” he said, and she nudged him with her heel.

“That might be foreplay for him, Dawn I’d be careful,” Faith said.

“Ignore her,” Connor sat up, hoisting himself back onto the loveseat. “And Dawn, I need you to promise me something,” he said seriously.

She narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“Being across the hall, you might hear me at night.” He rubbed his arms. “I have nightmares. They wake me up screaming sometimes. I need you to promise me you will _not_ come in my suite and try to help me.”

“But I don’t mind helping,” she protested.

He shook his head violently. “No! Dawn, I need you to promise me you won’t do that, or we will have to find me another place to stay. Promise me that. You can call Angel or Buffy, but you can’t come in.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You didn’t see him punch a fist straight into a demon’s head while she was munching on his shoulder,” Faith said. “And when I think about the fact that he’s not at full strength, that is a little scary.”

“Exactly. I don’t need Lorelei to tell me I have a little PTSD, and when I’m in that state, I could so easily hurt you by accident. I would never want to do that.” Connor shivered. “I’m not sure I could live with hurting anyone here, not again.”

“I promise,” she replied solemnly.

“Thank you,” he breathed, relief loosening his muscles.

“Happy, Buffy? Chances of little sis seeing him naked just dropped exponentially,” Faith laughed.

“No, that’s not true. I’ve seen that,” Dawn said, earning herself some stares.

Connor flushed. “I used to life model for her and Haven.”

“I’ve spent many hours studying everything under here.” She waved a hand at his torso. “Who knew foreskins looked like sad elephant trunks?” Dawn expertly ignored Connor’s pained expression. 

“You pretended not to know when you were talking about Haven’s art the first time you mentioned the whole no brains, big balls thing,” Buffy said, narrowing her eyes at her sister.

Dawn shrugged. “Seemed safer that way. Anyhow, the whole Sylvan sequence came from those sessions, won a few awards.”

“I’ve seen that series,” Buffy said, eyes widening, “Oh god.”

“Well, this is awkward.” Connor sighed.

“At least you know it probably couldn’t get more awkward,” Faith replied.

“There’s been worse,” Connor replied. “Like the whole finding out your first love turns out to be the woman cheating on your own father. There isn’t enough White Boy in California to get that out of my head.”

“Connor!” Angel snapped as Buffy went white. 

“I am going to just slate out the whole month for you,” Lorelei said grimly. “Not joking. You and I have a lot of work to do.”

“You’re probably thinking I should be somewhere nice with bars on the windows,” he said bitterly, feeling that familiar darkness rising up.

“No, but it’s probably going to be unpleasant.” Lorelei grimaced. 

“At some point, am I bringing him with me?” Connor hooked a thumb at Angel.

“Probably. Is it going to be necessary to have one of the Slayers outside the office?” 

Connor shook his head. “Not if we’re here or at the hospital talking. Dad and I can’t fight once the Sanctuary spell is restored. Well, we could try but the spell would slap us senseless. And that’s sort of the half the point of all this, to get where we aren’t punching each other in the face.”

“I won’t...” Angel said. “You know I don’t want to fight with you.”

Connor looked up at his father, that supernova of emotion going off in his chest. “I know. I don’t either, but we seem to end up there. I know we’re going to try. Something that will help is...well something that really is going to make the choice if I stay or not is you have to talk to me and not hide shit any normal human being would tell another. How many times have we all done this, me, you, the rest of the gang? And then have to pick up pieces after a huge ass explosion that didn’t have to happen if we just communicated.”

Angel sighed. “More times than I can count. I promise to try.” He picked up Dawn’s sketch pad off the desk. “And in the meantime, why don’t you model for Dawn like you did today. Pants on.”

Connor snorted, thankful for the break in the tension. “I promise, until the weight comes up, the pants stay on and afterward, they’ll stay on in the public places in the hotel.”

“And anywhere the sunlight is perfect for art, written notice will be given because that might happen,” Dawn grinned.

“What is it with you and nudes?” Buffy asked

“The nude form is lovely...though we did push the boundaries of that on Gunnison beach.” Dawn made a face.

“Do I want...” Buffy started

“Nude beach,” Connor supplied. “That was all on you and Haven. Sean and I would never have come up with that one.”

“No, two white Irish potato dudes probably wouldn’t. I can still hear Haven going ‘let me zink your dink’ to you two.” Dawn shook her head.

Connor sputtered. “God, I wanted to forget that!”

“I don’t even want to know,” Cordy said, flinging him and Dawn one of the menus. “You’re so weird.”

“Cordelia,” Angel said mildly. “And thanks, Dawn, none of us are going to forget that image.” He shuddered, paging through her sketch book. “Though, this one today is really nice. And this is outstanding.” He showed her the sketch in question, a large ring of Celtic knot work that blended into a tree of life.

“Thanks, Angel. I think it came out wonderful.” Dawn said at the same time Connor said, “Ooo, they have congee. Do I want that or hot and sour?”

“Get both. There’s a kitchenette in your suite so you can heat things up,” Angel said as Buffy peeked over his shoulder at the art.

“That is nice, Dawn. Is it the start of a new series?” Buffy asked.

“No.” She tugged up Connor’s sleeve. “This is his knot-work, expanded.”

“We were talking, and if I can stay sober for a year, I’m getting that sleeve.” Connor patted his shoulder.

“That is...are you sure that’s wise? It’s an awful lot of ink,” Angel said.

“Dad protest noted,” Connor replied. “Dad has tatt so son isn’t listening.”

Angel snorted. “It’s just that there isn’t that much _of_ you to ink.”

“Dick.” Connor laughed. “Okay, I’ll have both the congee and the soup, scallion pancakes and Hunan beef, thank you.”

“Good, and well, if you do ink Dawn’s art into your skin, wear it proudly,” Angel said.

“Should you be encouraging him with Dawn?” Xander looked down his nose at Connor.

“Of course he should,” Dawn said. “We’re friends.”

“And she could use a friend like me. I understand in ways none of you can,” Connor said.

“I’ve known Dawn all her life,” Xander retorted.

“Not debating that but you’re _human_. Completely. Dawn isn’t. I’m not. You have no idea what it’s like to think what the hell _am_ I?”

“Can others tell I’m so different?” Dawn added.

“Do they see I’m struggling to fit in because I’m just different enough that I don’t grasp what it is to be human?”

“Can I have kids? Would they be normal?”

“Or another hell goddess? Do I dare even think of kids?” Connor’s gut twisted, and Dawn looked equally pained.

“Will I age and die?” she whispered.

“No kidding! Look at me. I’m what? Closing in on thirty but I was passing as half that. Am I immortal?”

“If we are, I plan to spend part of it with you,” Dawn proclaimed. “Because I couldn’t bear losing everyone all the time.”

“You’ll need breaks from me though,” Connor replied. “My crap gets old.”

Dawn laughed softly.

“We get it,” Buffy said, her voice tight. “And that is terribly depressing.”

“It is and it’s terrifying. But now I know someone actually might understand.” Dawn squeezed Connor’s hand. “I’m glad to have a friend like you.”

“Me too.”

“Anyone here?” Willow called.

“In the library,” Giles answered.

She came in with a woman Connor didn’t know and to his shock, Tin Man. He jumped to his feet. 

“Niklas!” he cried as the boy bolted across the room to hug him.

“Ms. Stein, that’s Connor Hennessy who’s been looking out for Niklas,” Willow said. “Connor, this is Ms. Stein, Niklas’s social worker. She’s here to finalize the paperwork to place Niklas with Giles and Lorelei.”

Connor blinked, stunned into momentary silence. “I...I had no idea.”

“We wanted to wait until it was official that we were going to be his foster parents,” Giles said.

“And this afternoon sort of spun out of control with the trip down memory lane otherwise we would have told you this today.” Lorelei smiled, coming over to Niklas. “But we thought this would be good for everyone. Niklas sees you as his big brother, and since we’re all here at the hotel, it would help both of you.”

“Dr. McInness informed us of your...troubles,” Stein said. “But this is like an apartment complex in the way it’s set up. You aren’t in the same apartment. Dr. McInness is well known in here field so it was decided she and Mr. Giles would be able to spot any ...undo and unhealthy influences.”

“I wouldn’t do anything to endanger Niklas,” Connor said. “Even at my worst, I kept him away from my bad habits, which are hopefully over with.”

Stein gave him a curt nod. “We’ll take you up to your new home, Niklas. Dr. McInness, Mr. Giles, shall we?”

“One thing,” Connor broke in. “Niklas, I have something to say about all of this.”

“You’re okay, right?” Niklas asked worried. “You look...sad. You said Mr. Giles and Dr. McInness were nice. Don’t you want me here?”

“They are, I do, and I’m not sad. I’m serious. Rupert and Lorelei are your foster parents now, _not_ me.” Connor thumped his chest. “Whatever they say goes, get me? No running to me to get me to change something they’ve said that you don’t like.”

Niklas frowned. “But what if it’s not fair,” he whined.

“Then you and I can sit down with them and talk it out but at the end of the day, I’m what Willow said, the big brother. They’re the parents. I’m not going to go against their wishes. Understand?”

Niklas shook his head. “I get it.” He flung his arms around Connor’s chest hugging him tight. “We get to stay together! That’s all I ever wanted and Mr. Giles gave me comic books so he’s cool!”

“First time that’s ever been said,” Spike muttered.

Connor embraced Niklas hard, unable to trust his voice. He thumped Niklas’s back. “That’s all I wanted too. Rupert, Lorelei, thank you so much for making this possible. I can’t...” His voice did exactly what he feared: Broke. “You’ve made me very happy.”

Giles patted Connor’s shoulder. “Seemed like a way to help save two lives. I hope you like your room, Niklas. Once you get settled, you can go exploring. We’ll show you where Connor’s staying, too.”

“Cool. See you later, Angelboy. This is gonna be great.” Niklas beamed.

“Yeah, it is.”

Connor watched Giles and Lorelei lead Stein and Niklas out, holding it together until they left. Tears trickled freely after that. “Dammit, you’d think I’d have no more left in me.”

Angel dropped his big hand on Connor’s shoulder, pulling him close. “It’s okay, son. You’ve been looking out for that boy for a while now, haven’t you?”

“He came to my house when he was ten. He’s almost fourteen now, so yeah. I did my best for him so... this is good. I hope.” Connor pushed his hair back. “But will it be safe? Yeah, I told him all about me and you, but do we pull him even further into this world? Do they have kid Watchers?”

“No,” Willow said. “But there are Watcher families so in a way, I guess there are kids who at least know about this world. Let him settle first and then we can worry about the rest.”

Connor nodded. “Did you all know?”

“It was a group decision,” Buffy said.

“Then thank all of you. You have no idea what this means.” Connor took a deep breath in. “Giles was pretty much on the money with what he said.”

“And nice speech there, Connor,” Gunn said. “Laying down the law. Call yourself big brother all you want but you’re that kid’s dad, and you’re not half bad at it.”

Connor managed a wan smile. “Thanks, Gunn. That means a lot.”

“I mean it. You were good with Joshua too. Josh is going to need more of that because without Fred….” He sucked in a ragged breath. “But Niklas looks up to you, if you know what I mean.” Gunn narrowed his eyes.

Connor nodded. “I know. I’m trying.”

To Connor’s surprise, Lorne sauntered in. He shot the Pylean a concerned look, and then glanced over at Buffy.

Lorne was even more perceptive than Connor remembered. “Is my timing off?”

“I was delayed so they just go here a few minutes ago,” Willow said. “But Ms. Stein will be upstairs for a while and if she does come in, we can always go with the stage make up.”

“So you know now about the little surprise,” Lorne volleyed that to Connor.

“Yeah.”

“How are you doing with it?”

Connor wasn’t sure why Lorne cared. He’d never seemed to like Connor, and then he remembered an offhand comment about how much he’d cared about Connor as an infant. If he was turning a new leaf, he might as well start now with being nice. “I’m thrilled and scared to death. I mean, bringing a kid here saves him from the street but what good is it if demon eats him?”

 

“It’s almost like we don’t have someone who can see the future.” Xander rolled his eyes.

“Yeah but Cordy’s visions aren’t always about what you want them to be and me singing for Lorne never really turns out well,” Connor protested.

“I’m game if you are.” Lorne sat down

“Okay sure if you want to inflict my singing on yourself. It would help if you had your karaoke machine here to help fudge things.” Connor snorted. “Maybe Linkin’ Park’s _Numb_.”

“No sir!” Lorne waved his hands. “Angelcakes doesn’t need to hear that one.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “If he had heard it back then, maybe he’d have had clue.”

“I’m not even going to pretend I know what the hell you’re talking about,” Angel said.

Connor waved him off. “I’ll find another song. Oh hey, there’s one that would have been your and Mom’s theme song.”

“Why can’t you be normal?” Angel face palmed.

“Or take this seriously?” Lorne asked.

“Don’t stifle him. I want to hear this!” Spike laughed.

“Maybe I should just do the chorus.” Connor grinned wide. “ _And it’s so easy when you’re evil. This is the life you see. The devil tips his hat to me. I do it all because I’m evil. And I do it all for free. Your tears are the pay I’ll ever need_.”

Spike clapped. “Bravo. That is definitely the Angelus-Darla theme song.”

“Not to mention the Spike-Drusilla,” Angel shot back. “Pick another song. Why don’t you know anything....”

“Gonna say normal again?” Connor scoffed, and Angel glowered. 

“Voltaire’s song is pretty perfect though,” Dawn said. “Maybe something Irish?”

“Yes! Surely there’s an Irish band you like.” Angel grasped on that straw.

“I do love the Dropkick Murphys, Flogging Molly, The Pogues and The Tossers, but I can’t sing that,” Connor said, knowing he didn’t begin to have the vocal chops.

“Celtic Punk? Oh, I am so moving here. You and I have a lot to talk about,” Spike said, and Angel buried his face in his hands.

“Oh, how about this? It’s new and I really like it. It’s _normal_.” He eyed his father “ _I know I took the path that you would never want for me. I know I let you down, didn’t I? So many sleepless nights where you were waiting up on me. Well I’m just a slave unto the night_.” Connor sang another verse of _I Bet My Life_ , and then looked expectantly at Lorne.

“Better. And actually, you’ll probably be happy to hear this. I see good things for that boy of yours. He’s going to be fine, Connor. You, well you already know your road is rocky.”

“I don’t care about that. Niklas is going to be okay?”

“For the foreseeable future, he’s going to thrive. I do see some odd thing with you, Dawn, and Faith. It wasn’t clear what’s going on there.”

“Getting their own version of _Sister Wives_ on the air?” Spike asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Angel said but Connor couldn’t help notice that Angel was looking directly at him instead of Spike.

He snorted. “Thanks, Lorne. I can handle my own problems. I just want to Niklas to get a fair chance.”

“Looks like you’re giving him that. And good on you for that. It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Lorne said.

“Thanks Lorne. And I think I need to rest a little. Dawn, want to show me what you, Cordy and Buffy have done in my suite?”

“Sure. It’s not a finished project but we’ll foam up that bed so it’s comfortable until we get some new furniture.” She smiled, getting to her feet.

“Sounds fantastic. Don’t let me sleep through dinner.”

“Don’t worry.” She patted his arm. “Come on, I think you’re going to love it.”

Connor wasn’t so sure of that but for once, he could honestly say he was close to happy. This was, for better or worse, his home and his messed up family. He could live with that.


	32. The Beginnings of Peace

Epilogue

_Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever ever fee_  
Like you’re less than fuckin’ perfect  
Pretty pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you’re nothing  
You’re fuckin’ perfect to me!  
**Perfect – P!nk**

Angel knocked on the doorframe to Connor’s suite. The door was open, and his son stood at the window, touching the glass as he stared out into the night. Connor turned slowly, eyeing Angel, and then his gaze tracked down to the items Angel carried.

“Hope I’m not interrupting. The door was open,” Angel said, feeling the urge to yammer like Spike. Damn nerves. He knew he should be thrilled. His son was staying. He’d never admit it but one of the reasons he agreed it was a good idea that Giles and Lorelei become Niklas’s foster parents was he knew Connor would stay for the kid. But would Connor want to talk to him? They had gotten along well today. That was the start of something, right?

“It’s fine. Here.” Connor crossed the room and held out the cell phone Angel had let him borrow. “Thanks. I hope I didn’t burn up too much of your plan.”

“It’s fine,” Angel replied, having no real idea. Buffy dealt with that sort of thing. 

“I appreciate you letting me use it.” Connor shifted from foot to foot in the empty living room. There was nothing in it but a TV and DVD player. He seemed as nervous as Angel felt.

“Is your sister and friend okay?” Angel gripped the sketchpad he’d brought so hard he nearly bent it.

“Shyla cried when I told her I was back in rehab. She wants to meet up with me.” Connor stared at his feet. “Not sure where yet but I’ll do that. She’s going to bring my stuff. I figured I should get it out of her place and move it here.”

“Of course.”

“And Honey is doing well. I was worried. An Africa-American transwoman in the Deep South seems a little risky to me but she is having a great time. I wish I could do more for her.”

“Well, I’ll talk to the others. There might be something she could do at the school or at Wolfram and Hart.”

“Thanks. Anything would be better than hostess at a demon brothel.” Connor sighed, gesturing. “You have a stuffed bear.”

If Angel could blush, he would. He thumped the bear against his leg. “It was yours. I just thought...honestly I don’t know. You seemed surprised that I had gotten you one.”

“You kept it,” Connor sounded even more surprised by that. He held out his hand.

Angel gave him the bear. “I couldn’t get rid of it. I had it in storage. I thought maybe you’d want it for now. I know that’s pretty stupid.”

Connor studied the bear, shaking his head. He took it into the bedroom and tossed it on the bed. It landed next to Ratter who had already made herself at home. She sniffed the bear, and then put her head on it, going back to sleep. “It’s not stupid. I...yeah, I’m not sure what to say either but it means a lot that you kept it.”

“I brought something else that you might not want either.” Angel glanced around. “Not sure where to even put it. The ladies were going to decorate the living room but I said no.”

Connor raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“When you first lived here, you didn’t get to decide anything about your space. I thought you’d like to put your own stamp on it. I’m happy to buy you whatever you want within reasons. I mean, I’m not going to give you twenty thousand to do a living room.” Angel smiled. “But you can do what you’d like.”

Connor smiled again. “I do appreciate that, Angel. Really.”

“There are dishes in the kitchen and some pots and pans. And here.” Angel held out the sketchpad. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted any remembrances of your mother. I saw the way you looked at the picture of her and me but I didn’t want to give you that. You can tell we were so obviously....”

“Evil?”

Angel winced. “Yes. Anyhow, I drew this.”

Connor opened pad to see a sketch of Darla. It was simple but stunning. “Wow, no, this is great. I think I’d like having this. We’ll have to get a frame for it. Thank you.” He set it on the TV, pad closed.

“Connor, how are you really doing?”

“I don’t know, Dad. I’m glad Niklas will be okay. I’m both afraid and happy to be back here. I’m itchy and filled with the urge to just say fuck it and get high but now I have even more people expecting me to do right, which is both helpful and stressful, which makes me wish I were high even more.”

“I wish I could make it better.”

Connor shook his head. “No, no you don’t. Okay, I believe you want to but every time you try to make it better, Angel, it gets worse.”

Angel tried not to show how deep that cut. “I’m well aware of that, Connor. I promised to let you make your own way but if you’re struggling, expect me to be there with a hand out to help you.” Angel fidgeted. “But if it’s too much tell me to back off. I’ll do my best to give you breathing room.”

“That’s all I ask. Hey, Dawn said something about ghosts. Is this place haunted?” Connor asked obviously trying to change the subject. 

Angel smiled. “There’s been some ghosts over the years.” 

“Good because I thought I saw something in the living room when I was talking on the phone, and I was hoping it wasn’t a delusion. Never had to deal with a ghost before but maybe it was my imagination.” Connor shrugged. 

“Haven’t heard anything bad going on here.” Angel shrugged. “I listened to your songs.”

Connor favored him with a disbelieving look. “Which one?”

“All of them. So not funny about the when you’re evil crack but I think Spike is still somewhere laughing about it.” Angel grinned. “But the _Numb_ one...” He sighed. “I understand what you’re saying. That could have been written for us. And I’m sorry, Connor. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like that, and I know you did.”

Connor grimaced, looking away. “Yeah but I didn’t help matters. I know that.”

“True. Look at me.” For a moment, Angel thought Connor wouldn’t but he swiveled his gaze back to Angel. “I forgive you for all of it, Connor. We can’t change any of what happened but we also can’t keep living in those moments. You’ll never heal if we do, and it does no one any good. I forgave you a long time ago for what you and Justine did to me. I can see how you’d want revenge for what you thought I did to Holtz. I’m not sure if I ever told you I forgive you for that but I do.” Angel said, happy he made it through that without falling apart. “I want to help you all I can, even if I’m likely to screw it up.”

Connor looked at the edge of a break. “And I don’t blame you for the big spell, for any of the bad that ended me up in the mess I’m in. You tried to save me. I know that. And you’re right. I don’t want to wallow in all our past mistakes either. And there were plenty, mine and yours. I forgive you for it all. I want to start over, and I can’t keep holding on to all the grudges and hate. So what we’re going to be starts now.”

Angel wanted to say something but his voice failed. Instead, he pulled Connor close, hoping this wasn’t the first of new series of mistakes. He hugged Connor tight, and then tighter still when Connor hugged him back. They didn’t move for several long seconds. Angel wanted to let go, wipe away his tears but could feel Connor crying against his shoulder.

Finally, they broke apart, both looking away embarrassed as they tried to dry their faces.

“Hey, Dad, look.” Connor nodded to the TV. The sketchpad stood upright now, opened to Darla’s picture. “Maybe it’s Mom come for a visit.”

“Could be.” Angel frowned. “Buffy will hate that.”

Connor snorted. “It’s okay Mom if you want to hang out here for a while but it’ll probably be boring.”

“Speaking of that, I was wondering what you planned to do tonight. Catch up on your sleep?”

Shrugging, Connor gestured to the TV. “ _Archer_ is on later. Might watch that and someone, I’m assuming Dawn, left me some Harry Potter DVDS and TMC has a 50s Sci-Fi horror marathon on. I love those schlocky things.”

Angel laughed. “You are a bit of a geek. Those can be fun though. I like the _Three Stooges_ , myself.”

Connor eyed him. “I would never have guessed.”

“It’s true. I was thinking though, I’m about to go on patrol.” Angel glanced out the window. “Would you like to come with me?”

Connor’s answering grin made Angel’s spirit soar. For the first time since it all began he thought maybe everything would work out.

“Let’s go hit the streets, Dad.”

 

[](https://imgur.com/oKhy8nP)  


Back cover art by Electric_Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awards Won [](https://imgur.com/99Ydctu)  
> 
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/Q0l3qNR)  
> 
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/Ihc9lBx)  
> 
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/XchGa4j)  
> 
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/GpSBhmR)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/xgHrHzq)  
> 


End file.
